


Snared

by cutglasscaress



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Dubious Consent, M/M, Manipulation, Non-Consensual Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-24
Updated: 2014-12-15
Packaged: 2018-02-26 21:14:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 24,921
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2666570
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cutglasscaress/pseuds/cutglasscaress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dr Lecter is not a man to let a fortuitous opportunity pass him by. Especially when that entails the snaring of his perfect mate</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Omegaverse. This fandom was made for it. Well, that’s my excuse.
> 
> This story was inspired by the wonderful fanfiction on AO3, so I claim nothing original, just my take on familiar themes. The story is complete, and each chapter will be posted twice a week, every Monday and Thursday. Hopefully my rather old computer will survive until then.
> 
> No encephalitis, but Will is an unmated omega in a very stressful job, so Dr Lecter was assigned to him to ‘keep him stable’.

 

 

“Well, I don’t envy the realtor who has to sell this house.”

Sage nods all round.  All the crazies seemed to be coming out of the woodwork recently.  Everyone’s mind seemed simultaneously to reach the same conclusion, and not so subtly all eyes swivelled towards Will.  Standing on the periphery of the latest bizarre crime scene, Will was all too aware of the scrutiny.  He sighed and moved away towards his car.  

Will’s capacity to empathise with killers had been particularly dwelt upon in a Tattlecrime article six weeks before, as was his unmated status which seemed more than his so-called _gift_ to suggest that the omega was mentally unbalanced.  Miss Lounds was an alpha, and when she failed to charm (blackmail) Will into a personal interview, well, the obvious conclusion was that he could not possibly be of sound mind.  Either way, pettiness at being thwarted or personal belief, it had made Will’s already complicated life just a tad more difficult.  

Still, there was no denying the facts.  Since his reluctant re-admittance to crime scenes the level of crazy seemed to have escalated.  In their more whimsical moods the team would wager that the predominantly alpha psychopaths felt an instinctive need to test the skills of the unmated omega.  

Will had chanced upon a particularly dubious discussion on alpha psychology – was the escalation a coincidental occurrence, a mere blip on the statistical chart; or a taunt and a challenge to the omega profiler’s skill to find them; or a test to ascertain whether Will was worthy as a potential mate?  Zeller had been particularly adamant about that last one, and was heatedly defending it when he became aware of Will’s presence in the lab.  An awkward shuffling ensued, while everyone attempted not to look at anyone else.  The image of raided cookie jars and guilty sticky hands popped into Will’s mind.  Then Zeller attempted to expound on his reasons for his take on the matter, thereby compounding the awkwardness even further.  Price winced, Katz rolled her eyes.

“Oh, come on!  Not all alphas are knotheads driven purely by base instincts!  They have been known to seek out a mate not based solely on pretty looks and enticing smells, you know.”  Cynical looks greeted his impassioned speech.  “It happens!  You just can’t see beyond the stereotype.”  He grumbled.

“Ok, I grant you that _some_ alphas are more discerning when choosing their omegas, but are you suggesting that these are precisely the psychopaths we are hunting?  And just for our own peace of mind, Brian, where are you on this _discerning_ spectrum?”  Price, the voice of beta reason and known to enjoy teasing Zeller’s alpha nature just a little bit, tried (and failed) not to appear too amused at his colleague’s look of outrage.

“That is _so_ not what I...”  And surprisingly turning to Will –  “You know what I’m talking about, right?  You know why they would be attracted to you.”

“You don’t have to answer that.  We were just shooting the breeze before _someone_ got a little too carried away.”  Katz attempted to divert attention from the omega, but Zeller stood with his arms crossed and looked intently at Will, surprisingly not in an attempt to browbeat him but with an honest desire for the profiler to understand his point of view.  Will understood only too well.

He slipped into lecturer-mode, to show he was not offended or upset, and to keep himself from feeling too emotionally engaged in the discussion.  

“There are plenty of studies showing the benefits of bonding for both alphas and omegas.  In healthy relationships, the general wellbeing arises from a sense of belonging, of sharing, of no longer being alone, which helps to release stress and anxiety in both parties.  Psychopaths generally have particular difficulty in the whole ‘sharing and belonging’ part.  Some however may feel the need for companionship, if for no other reason perhaps than to be understood by another being.  And my empathy may lead them to think that I have what they need.  Also, they may be under the impression, especially after a certain article, that I may even approve of their acts.  You know, welcome them home after a kill with hot cocoa and cookies.”

Katz sniggered  “Sooooo, you are now basically psycho catnip.”  

“Pretty much.”  He meant to smile but it felt more of a grimace.  Zeller at least let the matter drop, obviously satisfied that his point had been understood.  Price was already flipping through his notes. 

“So, back to the body.”  And Will wondered what it said about him that that subject was the more appealing one.

 

*****************

 

“You are a little distracted, I think.”

Will blinked and looked up.  He had gotten lost in his thoughts and was a little startled by his re-emergence into reality.  

“Sorry, long day.”

“I understand you visited another crime scene today.  Would you like to talk about that?”

“Actually, no.  At least not directly.”  Will sighed and scrubbed his hands over his face.  “There has been a recent upsurge in the type of crime I profile that has led some of my colleagues to speculate on possible reasons, well, specifically my involvement.  And of course now my mind can’t let that notion go.”

“Your involvement?”  Hannibal looked intrigued.

A wry chuckle.  “Oh, no, they don’t mean _that_ , no matter what Miss Lounds tried to insinuate.  There was a discussion as to whether the involvement of an unmated omega profiler was somehow drawing the crazies out, in some weird attempt to prove themselves worthy alphas, or ... whatever.”

“An interesting proposition.  Are you thinking about it because you perceive there may be some truth in it?”

“God, I hope not, this is hard enough as it is without feeling like I’m unwittingly adding to the workload.”  And as Hannibal kept looking at him in what he now recognised as a speculative manner he added a little more seriously: “Why, do you think that’s a plausible scenario?”

“I believe it is a _possible_ scenario.  How plausible is open to question.  Is the extra work the only worry you have?  I noticed you hesitated and didn’t expound on ‘whatever’.”

An awkward smile. “Yes, well, someone suggested that with my empathy some of these alphas may see me as their perfect omega mate.  So, yeah, I find that notion a _little_ disturbing, don’t you?”

“Are you worried that some attempt may be made to kidnap you?”

Will barked out a shocked laugh “Well, I wasn’t _until now_!”  And at Hannibal’s attempt to soothe –   “No, look, it’s fine.  Well, actually, it isn’t.  What I mean is it’s not like I’m some helpless omega.  I do know how to defend myself.  It’s just... the notion of such feelings directed at me is disturbing.”

“Understandable.”

“So personally I’m going with the blip in the stats theory, and not with Katz’s psycho catnip one.”

He was rewarded with a small amused smile.  “Well, let us hope so.  Would you care to join me for dinner, Will?”

 

************************

 

A delicious dinner, conversation over wine, winding down over a whisky.  Will glanced at his watch and was astonished at the lateness of the hour.  He was about to make his excuses when Hannibal tutted that it would be unwise to attempt to drive in Will’s tired and slightly inebriated state, and insisted Will stay the night.  In other circumstances he might have refused, but he did find himself particularly sleepy tonight, and was persuaded to make use of the guest bedroom.  

He had on another occasion made some excuse and declined, but since then had admitted to the doctor that part of his reticence had to do with his sleepwalking, and was worried what he might do while a guest at Hannibal’s house.  The doctor assured him that if he ever had an episode, surely the safest place for him would be in his friend’s home, where help and medical expertise would be readily available.  

He had to admit that was a compelling argument.  At least it made him less self-conscious about his night time perambulations.  And anything odd he might do while at it could be put down to his state.  His increasing dependence on and enjoyment of Hannibal’s company was a subject he was not ready to analyse too closely at present (or ever, actually).  Certainly not now, when all he could concentrate on was not yawning and replying coherently to Hannibal’s comments about towels and guest bathrooms.  A rather cursory toilette followed, and then the promised blissfulness of a mattress.

 

Hannibal came into the room barely ten minutes later to ascertain that Will was well and truly asleep.  He was unlikely to wake in the next few hours after what the doctor had slipped into his wine.  He had much to do in the meantime.  His conversation with Will had opened a possibility he would be foolish to let slip.  He left the house and made his way to Wolf Trap in very good time, since the roads were conveniently free of traffic at this godforsaken hour.  

 

**********************

 

Will had awoken after a night of restful sleep, showered and come down to breakfast with a spring in his step, ready to enjoy the weekend with his dogs and his fishing.  Hannibal had greeted him in the kitchen, a delicious coffee and cooked breakfast waiting for him.  Obviously it was all too good to last.  After they had both eaten and Will was on his second coffee he felt Hannibal’s eyes on him.  The doctor gently enquired how he felt that morning.  And that set alarm bells ringing.  

“Oh, god, _what did I do_?”  

Hannibal calmly explained that he had heard the front door opening in the night and found Will in his underwear just outside on the path.  Will’s embarrassed apology was waived away, and the doctor proceeded to tell him how he had coaxed him back inside, tucked him back into bed, and most embarrassing of all stayed with him until he felt sure he would not leave again.  

Will was more confused than usual.  He thought he had slept exceptionally well for a change.  Such break patterns in his sleep normally meant a weary awakening and a listless day.  Hannibal appeared to consider this point, and suggested that having someone else to take care of him in this state might have helped to soothe him back into sleep much faster than if left to his own devices.  

“You can say it, you know.  An alpha scent can be useful in calming a stressed omega.  It’s textbook stuff.”

“I wouldn’t want you to think I exerted any undue influence on you while you were asleep.”

“If by undue influence you mean you stopped me from walking into traffic, then I’m inclined to let you off.”

Hannibal’s small smile was a reassuring sight.  “You have always been very gracious, Will.”

Will smiled back a little tiredly.  “Liar, but thanks.”  

They continued their breakfast in companionable silence.

When Will moved to leave he was not altogether surprised to find Hannibal also getting his coat. 

“I hope you don’t mind my joining you.  There is an acquaintance of mine I plan to visit, and he lives not far from your home.  Also, I have leftover sausages I think your dogs would enjoy.”

He accepted the dubious excuse readily.  He knew there was no point in arguing, and he wasn’t sure he even wanted to.  Dr Lecter was worried about him, and he couldn’t find it in himself to object to enjoying his company a little longer.  Also, let’s face it, the dogs would love those sausages.

“So what’s the other tub?”

“Poulet à la bretonne.  Well, I could hardly treat your dogs and not provide you with lunch.”

Will smiled, shaking his head and walking out to his car.

 

**********************   

 

“I think they look forward to seeing you more than me.”

“I give them prime sausages when I come.  Draw your own conclusions, Will.”

“I’m not completely sure what conclusions you wish me to draw from that example, doctor.  After all, you bring _me_ delicious food.”

“Perhaps I merely wish to be welcomed by all the inhabitants of this house.”

“You’re always welcome, you know ...  I mean, you don’t have to bring food as well.”

“I like to, Will.  You need feeding up.”

Will’s smile was tentative.  Sometimes he found it difficult to tell whether Dr Lecter’s behaviour was just a friend’s solicitousness or some alpha instinct to take care of an omega, and whether he should feel resentful if it were the latter.  Perhaps it was a mixture of the two.  After all, Hannibal had always behaved impeccably, and never shown any propensity to act as an alpha around Will, for which he was immensely grateful.  He mentally berated himself for his niggling doubts about the doctor, but allowed that his being suspicious was a natural reaction to his own experiences and line of work.

The dogs bounded around them in the kitchen while Hannibal cut the meat into bite-sized chunks.  There was a faint unknown scent beyond the familiar ones, which made Will feel vaguely uncomfortable and on edge, but unable to ascertain its origin.  He shook the feeling off, then let his pack out to frolic in the pale cold morning.  As he passed through the living room to drop his briefcase, he felt his skin prickling as the alien scent was far more distinct in this room.  His attention was grabbed by one of his shirts draped over a chair.  The shirt he distinctly remembered putting in the hamper the morning before, when he had spilled coffee down the front of it.

“Will?”  Hannibal appeared in the doorway.  “Is everything alright?”

“I’m not sure, but I could swear _that_ was in the hamper.”  He then picked up the shirt to look for the tell tale coffee stain, which indeed was present where he remembered it.  The unwelcome whiff assailed his nose, concentrated here and now unmistakeable.  He dropped the shirt in shock.  Alpha blocker.  

Hannibal was next to him in a heartbeat.  “Will?  What is it?”

Will blinked and stared at the shirt on the floor.  He went automatically into analysis mode, his mind’s attempt to remain calm and detached from a potentially stressful situation.  “The shirt smells of alpha blocker, used to disguise an alpha’s scent.  The shirt was clean yesterday morning, before I spilled coffee all over the front and had to change before going to work.  So it did not come into contact with any other person except myself, and certainly did not smell of _that_ before I put it on.  So, someone came into my house between my leaving for work yesterday and returning from your house this morning.  And rummaged through my things.”  And as a thought struck him he paled.  “Oh, god, they could have hurt my dogs.  They...”

“Will, be calm.  They didn’t hurt them.  I don’t mean to disparage your pack, but I suspect a few kind words in the right tone, and a few choice titbits might have put paid to any of their concerns.”

Will smiled ruefully at the accurate picture Hannibal painted.  He nodded tiredly.  He began to sift through anything that looked as if it had been touched before realising that the intruder could potentially still be in the house.  He retrieved his gun and proceeded carefully to check the rest of the house.  Hannibal followed him closely.  Once certain they were alone, he decided to find out what his unwelcome visitor had wanted.

“Would you like a hand, or do you think my scent would confuse proceedings?”

“No, your scent is very different.  I can easily differentiate.  Actually you have a very acute sense of smell, so you might pick up something I don’t.  Please feel free.”

They looked from room to room.  There were several areas where the scent was faint, as if the person looked around but didn’t linger.  As suspected, and dreaded, the smell was most powerful in the areas of the bathroom and Will’s bed and clothing.  Used towels, sheets and clothes were fair saturated with it, and Will shivered with disgust at the thought of some intruder sniffing his personal stuff.  He wasn’t one hundred per cent sure, but by the end of the survey he was fairly confident that some items had gone missing.

“You must tell Jack.”  And at Will’s sigh and pinching of the bridge of his nose, he added “You can’t brush this under the carpet.  If you won’t tell Jack, I will.”

“Fine.  But I’m sure they will find nothing.  If this alpha has bothered with a good quality blocker, it’s unlikely that anyone will find fingerprints or other evidence.  So it will be a gigantic waste of time.”

“Protecting you is not a waste of time, Will.  Even Jack would agree, since you are so valuable to the FBI.  Let me warm up the food while you call him.  You should not skip eating, and it will be a while before he gets here anyway.”

 

*************

 

The forensics team combed the place, but as Will suspected nothing beyond the presence of the blocker was found.  Jack scowled a lot, and Will watched him confabulating with Hannibal and occasionally pinning the profiler with a look that seemed to imply that Will was being damned inconvenient by being stalked.  Soon enough they came over to him, and he did not like their shared looks one bit.  His body language immediately broadcasted his tension.

“Now, Will,” – and he winced at the tone.  Nothing good ever came out of that tone – “I know how independent you are, and how you value such independence, but we must look at the facts.  An unknown alpha made their way into your house, and we must consider that their interest in you may be related to your work for the Bureau.  It was just dumb luck you weren’t in.  This time they just poked around and took a few things, but I am sure they will return.”

“Ok, fine, I’ll get a better lock for the door, and locks for the windows as well.”

Jack now sported the _other_ look, the one that clearly stated that he had already made a decision that bypassed any objections Will might have.  The omega bristled.  It wasn’t enough that Jack controlled him at work, he was now supposed to relinquish all independence at home too.  Like hell he would.  In a rare occurrence Will met Jack’s eyes and there was little doubt of the anger and frustration in the omega’s glare.  Before matters could escalate Hannibal smoothly interjected.

“Jack, if you would...”  He encouraged the agent to step back and undertook to continue where he left off, in what Will felt was a rehearsed move that got his back up even more.  A painful feeling of betrayal made him snap at the doctor.

“Should have known.  Alphas deciding what is best for the fragile little omega.”  He felt thoroughly ashamed at the hurt look on Hannibal’s face.  

“My dear Will, this has everything to do with your safety.  If the situation were reversed, would you not encourage me to take measures to protect myself?”

Will knew he would, whether Hannibal were an alpha or not.  He was his friend, so of course he would be concerned.  “I’m sorry, I am being unreasonable.  I just... my work already eats at every aspect of my life.  I foolishly hoped my home at least was a safe place.”

“And it will be again.  Jack cannot afford to have an agent permanently stationed here, and I’m sure you would refuse such an offer.  However, I hope you would not refuse a friend keeping you company, either here or at my house, until the danger has passed.  Perhaps if you are worried about your dogs you could make arrangements for their stay elsewhere for a while.  Alana has offered to have them for as long as you wish.”

Will was a little stunned.  “You have already contacted her?  When did you do that?”

Hannibal offered an apologetic look.  “I called her when you stepped out with the dogs, while we were waiting for Jack.  I’m sorry if I overstepped my bounds.  I just thought you would feel more at ease knowing they would be well looked after if you decided to stay with me.”

For a heartbeat Will’s initial resentment had threatened to flare up again at this further attempt to steer his actions, and he had to remind himself that Dr Lecter was not Jack.  He also conceded that, yes, the notion that his dogs would be in Alana’s care did ease his mind.  Also he couldn’t possibly expect Hannibal to drive every day to Wolf Trap to babysit him.  It would make more practical sense to stay at his place in Baltimore.  And whoever had broken into his home would not know where Will had relocated, thereby not putting the doctor at unnecessary risk.  

But he still felt that it was an imposition to stay with Hannibal for what might be an indefinite time.  He attempted to put a limit to it.  One week.  Hannibal suggested that depriving him of Will’s company after such a short length of time would be cruel, and while Will stood a little flustered, he smoothly concluded that no limit should be put at present on his sojourn.  

As the forensics team packed up and left, he encouraged Will to collect anything he wished to take with him, while he called Alana to confirm their arrangement.  Will picked up several changes of clothing which thankfully hadn’t been pawed by the intruder, presumably since no enticing omega smell was present.  However he decided to ask Hannibal to stop at a store along the way for new toiletries.  No way was he taking anything from the bathroom.

 

**********************

 

The ride back was awkward.  Now that Will had time to think he was considering the wisdom of an unmated alpha and omega sharing living quarters.  He had always been impressed by Dr Lecter’s command over himself.  Will had never met anyone with such quiet yet assured confidence, such control over his words and actions.  

But it was that very image of seeming absolute mastery over himself that sometimes made Will uncomfortable.  Alphas were not generally known for it.  They tended to be more aggressive than betas or omegas, more inclined to find difficulties in healthy social interaction due to their inherently competitive and confrontational natures.  Zeller was a prime example, as was Jack.    

At times Will felt that Dr Lecter’s image was too perfect.  Something was hiding behind that immaculate surface, that calm exterior, and if he scratched it, what might be revealed underneath?  

“You are very pensive.”

Will almost jumped in his seat.  Hannibal was giving him a very knowing slightly amused look.  Will blushed, ashamed of his suspicious nature, but his host misinterpreted his reaction and attempted to defuse the perceived situation.

“There is a key to your bedroom if you are concerned about your virtue.”

“Oh, very funny.  If anyone should lock their door it’s you, considering my propensity for walkabouts.”

“I shall keep that option in mind.”  Will didn’t need to see Hannibal’s face to hear the humour in his voice.  “What is worrying you then, Will?”

“I’m not exactly worried, or at least not about that.” – he lied.  “I’m not used to sharing my living space, and nor are you.  I’m concerned we might find the situation stressful.”

“My dear Will, let us not envisage potential difficulties needlessly.  If we have a problem we should consider the startlingly original option of discussing it like adults.”

Will gave him a _look_ , well he gave his tie a _look_.

“I’m sure we will get on just fine, Will, as we always do.  You worry too much.”

Will conceded the point.  He got on with Hannibal and enjoyed being with him.  Apart from his own occasionally paranoid musings about him, he could not very well tell the doctor that their rapport was precisely one of the reasons for his concern.  From putting up with his company due to Jack’s pressure, to grudgingly admitting that his society was welcome, to now finding it pleasurable and desirable, were steps that had taken far too little time to develop.  And now they’d be living together.  

 


	2. Chapter 2

Hannibal was delighted with the results of his visit.  His conversation with Jack had gone as smoothly as he had planned.  It was enough to mention the theory propounded (partly in jest, but Jack need not know that) by Will’s colleagues, and put his own professional weight behind it to make the plausibility a real probability.  

Will was now ensconced in his home and unlikely to leave for a while.  At some stage in the next couple of days he would have to visit Wolf Trap again and leave further evidence of the unhealthily obsessed alpha in search of his Will.  He knew the omega would be concerned about overstaying his welcome and might attempt to return home before Hannibal’s plans were concluded.  That would never do.  But if he went back and discovered another break in, well, the episode would convince him (and Jack) that the danger was not past.  Meanwhile the doctor would have plenty of time and opportunity to continue his subtle courtship.  

After their initial prickly beginnings, when Will had been uncomfortable both about his profession as well as his designation, he had made sure not to spook the suspicious omega with any action or words that could be interpreted as anything other than courteous professional interest.  He did his best to be the calm centre to Will’s chaotic life, his refuge, his only safe port from the storms of his mind.  

At first he had intended to toy with him and the FBI, to grasp this opportunity to learn what he could in order to undermine their efforts, for his future advantage and merely for the mischievous pleasure of it.  But as he got closer to Will and witnessed the workings of his mind and his beautiful suffering, he became utterly fascinated by him.  His omega may be damaged, but he was strong.  Hannibal would be sure to encourage his unappreciated potential, and with the alpha by his side he would no longer know loneliness.  This period together would be crucial to cement his plans.

Having done his research he was aware that Will’s heat would be due three weeks hence.  Will always booked a specialist facility in Baltimore, and Alana looked after his dogs while he was away.  He just had to ensure the profiler didn’t make the appointment.

 

***************  

 

“So, what’s it like living with the sexy doctor?  What, it’s a valid question, which requires the fullest answer.”

Will shook his head and attempted to bypass Katz.  She bumped shoulders with him and conspiratorially, in the kind of whisper that travels far and wide, went on to admit she had put $100 on their ‘getting it on’ by the end of a month.  

Will had told himself he had given up being embarrassed by Bev.  Now he only had to convince his body of that, and will away the heat rising in his cheeks.  He tried to steer his mind away from the glorious technicolour images her words were evoking.  Anyone else would have gotten short shrift on such a subject, but he liked her, so he merely sighed.  She was the friendly confident extrovert he could never be, but tended to drift towards.  

“I’m sorry to disappoint, but I’ll be in my omega facility by then.”  He didn’t normally divulge such details, but this needed to be nipped in the bud.

“Oooooh, you might not be needing that.  It’s a long time between now and then.”

“It’s barely two weeks!”

“Soooo, are you actually denying the possibility, or just stating there isn’t enough time to get the ball rolling?”

“What?  I... of course I’m denying it.”  And denying the blush suffusing his cheeks.  

“Yeah, you see, that denial came a little late to the party.”  And at Will’s growing unease.  “Hey, I’m kidding, kind of.  I think you’d be great together and it’s about time something good happened to you.  You deserve it.”  And with that she actually gave him a peck on the cheek, winked and moved away.

 

Will spent the rest of the day in a bit of a happy haze.  He told himself it was just the gesture of affection, and nothing whatever to do with Bev’s romantic good wishes, but he had never been much good at lying to himself.  

Still, underneath that happy layer was worry, his old friend.  The past week had been amazingly good and he had been basking in the unaccustomed feeling when he found out his home had been broken into again.  Hannibal had been with him at the time, and he had felt ridiculously pleased of the company.  The initial indications were that it was same person, so at least whoever it was didn’t know about his relocation.  He left barely ten minutes after he got there, picked up the books he wanted and couldn’t even bring himself to get more clothes. 

But Hannibal’s steady presence had made an unpleasant situation infinitely more bearable.  He felt grateful for his quiet unobtrusive solicitude.

 

*********************

 

So grateful that when Hannibal suggested a visit to the opera to get his mind off things, he felt he could hardly refuse.  The doctor’s pleased smile quite disarmed him, and it did help to alleviate his worries about the event a little.  

Hannibal proceeded to pour two glasses of wine, and while Will was sipping his own, he assured him he need not trouble himself with apparel, since he would be happy to arrange everything.

“There’s no need.  I do know where to get a decent tux, you know.”

“Do you indeed, Will?”  Will could hardly blame the doctor for his look of contained disbelief.

“Alright, I know someone who knows.” 

“Indeed, you know me.  I would be most happy to procure one for you.  I will make an appointment tomorrow evening for a fitting.”

“I was just going to hire one.”

“You will still need to be physically present, even for that purpose.  Minor changes may have to be made to anything off the peg.”  Surely no three little words had ever invited such a note of disapproval.

His careful wording achieved the desired result.  Will was under the much mistaken impression that he would be merely trying something on with a view to minor adjustments, and lapsed into resignation of this inevitable yet minor inconvenience.  Not that Hannibal was going to allow him to wear something hired.  No, his Will would have the best his considerably talented tailor could provide.  Time was a little short, but Mr Mantegna was a master of his art, and anyway he had already done most of the groundwork on this assignment in the last few weeks, based on the doctor’s directions.  

Hannibal was itching to show his Will off in an appropriate setting.  He admired his omega’s mind, he enjoyed his company, and now it was time to show off his physical beauty to best advantage.  

He also hoped the reaction engendered by their visit would help break through Will’s self-deprecating attitude towards himself and make him finally see how desirable he was as a partner.  His lack of confidence in all things romantic had saved him from unworthy rivals, but it was now time for Hannibal to winkle him out of his shell and show him who he truly was.  His altogether perfect mate. 

 

****************

 

He had been tricked.  How had he not seen this coming?  As soon as he had entered the understated elegance of the little shop alarm bells has tinkled in sympathetic unison with the bell of the door.  He was gently steered further into the belly of the beast, in the very sanctum sanctorum where Mr Mannaggia (or whatever his name was, he had been too uncomfortable to catch it) scrutinized him with an expert eye, and together with his assistant, whipped out his measuring tape and got to work.  Will had to admit to being impressed with the efficiency of it all, and amazed at the very fast Italian being spoken between the two.

Hannibal was watching imperturbably from the sidelines, but during a particularly exasperating moment of poking and prodding Will had chanced to turn his way, and he fancied he caught something distinctly proprietorial in his eyes, but when he blinked in surprise it was gone.  He quickly turned back to Mr Malatesta with a blush.  Finally the tailor stepped back looking quietly satisfied and went off to consult with Dr Lecter.  

The assistant caught the sigh of relief and surprisingly smiled at Will and offered him coffee, then leaned in and sotto voce wondered if Will might prefer something a little stronger.  Before he could second guess himself he asked for whisky.  The assistant nodded in an understanding way and reappeared moments later with a generous helping.  The look Will gave him could not have contained more gratitude.

While he enjoyed his drink he tried to tune out the conversation a few paces away.  He hardly understood any of it anyway, tailor jargon that Hannibal unsurprisingly was happily wading through.  Soon the doctor was thanking the two professionals and coming towards him, his subtle body language denoting pleasure.  Will had every intention of telling Hannibal what he thought of this little ambush when they were alone, but once outside he found it difficult to mar his friend’s obvious contentment.  Back in the Bentley he attempted to extract a price for his tailor made tuxedo.  Hannibal demurred.  Will insisted.  

“My dear Will, I invited you to the opera.  I can hardly expect you to go to the expense of buying appropriate apparel whilst indulging me.”

“I could have just hired it, you know.”  And at the slightly pinched look on Hannibal’s face – “‘Hiring’ is not a swear word.”

“That is a matter of opinion.  At any rate it would give me great pleasure to do this.”  And as Will opened his mouth to object further, the doctor added in a soft soothing tone   – “Please, Will.”  After that, Will capitulated.  He didn’t want to hurt Hannibal’s feelings, and felt like an ungrateful cad merely thinking about refusing his offer.  He did wonder about the look he had glimpsed at the tailor’s but dismissed it as his own imagination. 

 

*********************

 

That opinion was harder to hold on to when the whole of his apparel magically appeared in his bedroom four evenings later.  The tuxedo was joined by a shirt, bow tie, cufflinks, socks and shoes.  Will stood gaping, and caught himself being pathetically grateful it did not include boxers.  He made his way to the kitchen where Hannibal was busy rustling up a so called simple meal.

“Hannibal, it’s too much.  Surely you can see I can’t accept all this.” – and at Hannibal’s relaxed demeanour which very much implied he could, he added a little frantically – “You said it was only the tux.”

“My dear Will, I hope you will forgive me for being presumptuous but I do believe you do not in fact own any of the other items, which are indispensable for the ensemble.  And I already mentioned it would be discourteous in the extreme for me to expect you to purchase any accessories to go with your suit.”  Before Will could point out the flaws in that argument, or indeed think of any, Hannibal added in an almost coy manner – “Do you like them?”

Will’s brain took a holiday and he practically stuttered out – “They are beautiful.”  The look of genuine pleasure on Hannibal’s face made his inner omega glow, and all thoughts of arguing fled his mind in defeat.  Will laid the table while Hannibal made his last minute aesthetic touches to the meal, then they partook of the wonderful repast and retired to the living room.

 

******************* 

 

Two days later, Will was climbing the steps to the auditorium, aware of several eyes boring into his back.  As he suspected Dr Lecter’s entry to the opera house had not gone undetected, notwithstanding his attempt to put Will at ease by arriving merely fifteen minutes before the performance.  Will knew there would be little chance of escaping further scrutiny during the intermission, and anyway he could hardly curtail the doctor’s social interaction due to his own seclusive shortcomings.  Still, he hoped there might be an opportunity to quietly hide himself for part of it while Hannibal paid court.  He had spied a particularly large and strategically placed potted plant that would do nicely.

He was already feeling the uncomfortable prickling of skin that preceded the onset of nervous sweat when he felt Hannibal’s hand at the small of his back, a reassuring familiar presence in these uncomfortable alien surroundings.  He was amazed at how quickly he began to unwind.  He could see Hannibal casting him an encouraging look and bolstered by it he attempted to ignore the antagonistic vibes his empathy could not help making him aware of.

 

Will was entranced.  Hearing the odd aria on the radio or television had not prepared him for the whole live experience.  He felt himself so immersed he was taken aback by the arrival of the intermission.  Hannibal gave him a curious look which turned oddly tender until he felt wetness on his face.  Embarrassed, he lifted his hand to hurriedly wipe his skin, but Hannibal gently stopped him, and took out a dark red handkerchief which he placed in his hand.  When Will had finished removing the evidence he sat for a few seconds, handkerchief loosely held, unsure whether to return the slightly damp item to Hannibal or keep it.  The doctor plucked it from his unresisting fingers and replaced it in his pocket, his nostrils flaring briefly at Will’s scent imprinted on the silk.   

Will became instantly aware that this little exchange had not gone unnoticed by some.  Whispers and pointed looks were aimed in their direction, and Will was sure the gossip would spread quickly before the evening was over.  Dr Lecter was a very eligible bachelor, an alpha prime specimen, and the occasional society pages Will had come across always speculated as to the lucky one who could catch his interest.  The slightest gesture would be plucked and analysed, dissected and theorised over, and the dubious results of this speculation would be splashed onto glossy pages for his future embarrassment. 

He wandered if what just transpired could be deemed as nothing but the natural intimacy between friends, and found he was not sure of the answer.  What he was damn sure about was that he could do with a drink right about now.  They both rose and made their way to the bar, Will very aware of Hannibal’s hand just above the swell of his buttocks.  Where was that bloody drink?  

As if guessing Will’s mounting mood, Dr Lecter escorted him to the bar and presented him with the pre-ordered whisky.  Will’s relief was shortlived.  He could feel the vultures circling and before long a couple swooped down, scenting blood.  He fancied he could almost hear the rustle of feathers settling.  The longest twenty minutes oozed by.  There were two patrons who seemed genuinely sincere and keen to engage Will as well as Hannibal in conversation, but otherwise everything felt tiresomely rehearsed, shallow and hollow, the smiles never quite reaching the eyes, but the curiosity positively predatory.  

Dr Lecter introduced Will to all interested parties (everyone), and took every opportunity to proudly mention his profession and to make him blush with his praise.  Will was aware of genuine surprise as well as jealousy.  Clearly many had viewed Dr Lecter as a likely prospect, and were not well pleased by the warmth of his regard for Will.  He was also surprised to note envious looks directed at Hannibal, and what brought a blush to his face, some heated ones lingering rather longer than was considered polite on himself.  He turned away from such a look only to be speared by another hungry gaze.  The man was a dark alpha and his stare disturbingly intense.  In fact, everything about him spelled ‘disturbing’ in big creepy blood soaked letters.  No less odd, though thankfully far less dangerous, was the angry baffled look he was receiving from the man’s companion, a rather chubby male omega.  A short lull in the conversation followed, then he became aware of Hannibal’s attention directed to the newcomers.  The rotund one beamed and, giving Will as wide a berth as possible in the rather constrained space, walked to stand in front of Hannibal, the dangerous alpha one step behind.

“Hello, Dr Lecter!  Thought I might find you here.  You see?  We share so many interests.  Oh, here is my friend, Tobias Budge.”

Hannibal greeted the intruders, and introduced Will, who noticed how Dr Lecter bridged the two inches between them and slid his hand to his waist.  

“Dr Lecter, I’ve heard so much about you.  And now we finally meet.”  And as the creepy alpha turned to Will – “And it is a pleasure to meet _you_.  I recall you being mentioned in Miss Lounds’ piece.”  

Well, thank you soooo much, Will thought feelingly.  Just what the conversation needed, a touch more awkwardness.  

“I’m sure Miss Lounds’ brand of journalism will take her far.”  Hopefully, very far away.  He gave a strained smile, aware of Hannibal’s displeasure at the mention of the article. 

The tension ratcheted as the two alphas stood taking the measure of each other while ostensibly exchanging pleasantries.  Will’s nose crinkled.  Not only was he being assailed by a generous spike of alpha scent, but the other omega was again looking upset and petulant, and adding his own waft to the mix. 

The blessed bell rang out signalling the end of the interval.  Hannibal steered Will away making sure his own body was between the omega and Tobias.  The irony of the situation wasn’t lost on Will.  Having attempted to distance himself from all work related issues by going to the opera, his work had somehow managed to find him even in this unlikely setting.  He didn’t need his empathy to sense the killer in Tobias Budge, or even his many years in law enforcement.  How Franklyn Froideveaux could blithely blunder about in his company without any hint of something amiss, he could not fathom.  But then, the man didn’t strike him as the sharpest tool in the box.  In the short conversation that had ensued he had managed to blurt out being Dr Lecter’s patient, so maybe his psychological issues were related to his utter lack of preservation instincts.  Certainly it didn’t seem normal to fail to see the lion in the room when it seemed to be making no effort to hide. 

However he set all thoughts of Mr Budge aside as soon as the performance started.  He would certainly make enquiries about him, but for tonight he was determined to enjoy the rest of his evening.

 

********************

 

“Oh, my god!”  Will sat at the breakfast table staring at the online gossip article that featured himself and Hannibal.  Bev had gleefully forwarded it to him with a cheeky note concerning her perceived improved chances to win the betting pool.  The piece purported to reveal the romantic attachment between them, and together with a shitload of spurious evidence (and a couple of surprisingly damning photos), to predict a bonding within three months.  Hannibal privately thought the article quite prescient, but in light of Will’s embarrassed sputtering, he maintained an aura of light amusement.

“I suppose you are used to this kind of thing, but it’s all a bit new for me.”

“My dear Will, this is what gossip columnists do.”  And as he invaded Will’s space ostensibly in order to better view the photographs, he observed  – “Those came out well.”

Will groaned, hiding his face in his hands.  “Are you just trying to see how many ways I can blush?”  

Hannibal squeezed his shoulder reassuringly.  “I assure you, I already know.”  And as his apron got a _look_ , he added – “But I wonder what you thought of our new acquaintance.”  He did not need to explain who he meant, judging by the sudden tension in Will’s shoulders.

“I’ll see if I can get some information on him when I get to work.  But until I have more than a ‘feeling’, there isn’t anything we can do officially.  By the way, shouldn’t we warn Mr Froideveaux that he has extremely poor choice in friends?”

“I suspect Franklyn will be bringing up yesterday’s encounter himself in our next session.  He has spoken of Mr Budge before, and without revealing anything pertinent, does seem to be aware that all may not be well with him.”

Will frowned.  “He is attracted to you.”

“I have been reliably informed that I am a very attractive man.”

Will barked a laugh, feeling a release of tension.  He had not realised how annoying he found the other omega’s attraction to Hannibal.  He knew Dr Lecter had zero romantic interest in his patient, but it was clear that Mr Froideveaux was incapable of taking the hint.

Hannibal surreptitiously studied all the expressions flitting through Will’s face, although the omega’s scent had already given him away, a hint of aggression underlying it at the mention of his patient.  Hannibal revelled in it and breathed it in like the finest wine. 

 


	3. Chapter 3

Hannibal crinkled his nose and spared Will a pained look.  As the omega came nearer to his heat, the doctor had enjoyed all the new and improved nuances of his delectable aroma.  Alas, such a delicious development was short lived.  Will had come down to breakfast reeking of beta products in an all too obvious attempt to cover up his more alluring natural scent. 

In the past Hannibal had teased him about the efficacy and indeed odour of such products (with his refined nose, he could practically smell the rigging on that ship), but Will’s usage then had been sparing, certainly compared to the reek now pervading his kitchen.  The truth of the matter was that, blunt instruments though they were, these products were pretty effective.  Hannibal was torn between loathing them for being so and therefore depriving him of this new pleasure, and thankful that no other alpha would be able to smell his omega.

Will grimaced in sympathy.  “Yeah, sorry.  I just got a call from Jack and he expects me at a crime scene, so...  Oh, of course he wants you there too.  Although for you, he asked nicely.”

“Are you alright?  You look a little upset.”

Will slumped in a chair and wrapped his hands around the coffee cup, enjoying the fleeting comfort of its warmth.

“The crime scene is at the opera house.  Jack wouldn’t give me any specific details, except to say it was spectacularly staged.”  And as Hannibal tilted his head fractionally in invitation to continue – “And it makes me angry!  I feel like the one place I did not connect with gruesome murders has somehow been defiled.”  

Nothing had come of his enquiries about Mr Budge, and he could see that the alpha’s name was not far from Hannibal’s thoughts either.  There certainly seemed to be an unhealthy number of psychotic killers about, but how many would use the opera house to display their work?  He could hardly fail to suspect a connection after meeting Tobias Budge there just three days before.  

They ate their breakfast in silence, and made their way to the crime scene.

 

*************

 

“You said it was a serenade.  Who is it for?”

“I don’t know.” 

Jack eyed him for a few uncomfortable moments, exuding disgruntled disappointment, then moved away shouting orders.  Hannibal approached him, and Will noticed the subtle lines of tension around his mouth.  They stood together on the stage, Will looking towards the seating area, as if he could spot who this performance was meant to impress.  He had little doubt as to who was the performer.  The tricky part was proving it, but Will hoped that something might turn up in the lab.

“I found out he owns a music shop.  I should pay him a visit, test his reaction to the news.  Anyone who displays their work so ostentatiously strikes me as a show off.  He wants to be appreciated.”

“We could do that.”  And at Will’s raised eyebrow – “I’m not letting you go there by yourself.”

“I was just going to sound him out.  I’m sure I won’t be in danger.”

Hannibal was quite aware of the kind of danger Tobias Budge represented, and he had no intention of allowing Will to spend any time alone with this rival alpha.

“Will, you have already sensed that this is a serenade.  I would go a step further, and suggest a courting gift.”

Will seemed to consider this, then frowned as an unpleasant suspicion dawned on him.  

“Ok, I’m taking a wild stab in the dark here and guessing the recipient of this thoughtful gift is not Franklyn.” 

Hannibal nodded in amused agreement.  He stood watching Will, waiting for the man to admit what he didn’t want to acknowledge.  Will sighed.  All his colleagues’ speculations were coming to bite him in the arse.

“Shit.”

“Quite.”  Hannibal retorted rather primly, though he had to concede that he completely supported the sentiment, if not the language in which it was couched.

Will looked a little lost now, unsure how to proceed.  However the doctor knew that, unpleasant though the duty might be, the profiler would feel he should carry on with his plan, so he took this opportunity to dissuade him from his resolve.  

“I wonder if it has occurred to you that Mr Budge may also be your mysterious visitor.”  At this, Will shuddered.  “He admitted knowing about you prior to your meeting, and together with the rather engaged attention he bestowed on you, I think it’s safe to speculate he might be the man who invaded your home.  And now left you this.”  Hannibal gestured behind him to the gruesome human instrument.  

“What’s wrong with chocolates or flowers?” 

Will rubbed his tired face and admitted that the sensible thing to do was to tell Jack what they both suspected, and let him take it from there.  He knew if he insisted on contacting the creepy alpha Dr Lecter would accompany him, and he was not prepared to put Hannibal in any kind of danger on his account.

They both approached the agent and relayed their suspicions.  Jack readily agreed that Will should stay well away from the man, and he immediately made arrangements to send someone over to Mr Budge’s shop.  

They left soon after, Hannibal urging him to remain at the FBI headquarters while he himself attended his sessions.  They would meet up after work and drive home together.  The request was gentle but earnest, and Will found himself agreeing at once, and looking forward to Tobias slipping up, being arrested, and out of their lives for good.

 

***********

 

Of course, he should have known things were never going to turn out that way.  Just after 4pm Jack approached Will and the look on his face informed the profiler that everything had gone to shit.  Tobias Budge had killed the FBI agent and the two officers sent to his store, and it was thanks to a member of the public who saw him exit his shop with blood on his face that the alarm was raised as quickly as it had.  Jack told him to remain in the building and moved off, busy with his manhunt, but Will’s mind was in turmoil.  

What would Budge do now?  If he was as obsessed as Hannibal suspected, he could indeed try to track Will down, but he could just as easily decide to remove a perceived obstacle.  Will had been very aware at the opera of the alpha posturing going on between the killer and Dr Lecter, but had relegated Budge’s behaviour towards himself as merely shallow physical admiration.  Now he realised it was much more than that.  Budge saw Hannibal as his romantic rival, and he didn’t think he would baulk at adding another kill to the body count. 

Will whipped his phone out and speed dialled Dr Lecter at his office.  No answer.  He told himself not to worry, that Hannibal would not answer the phone if he was in session with a patient, but the logic did nothing to still his fears.  He left a hurried frantic message, and urged him to try and keep himself safe while he arranged for officers to be sent over.  He then rushed out of the building to his car and drove to Hannibal, breaking all speed limits.

 

His gun was already in his hands as he entered the waiting room.  He could hear thumps and crashes from inside and opened the door to the sight of Budge stabbing Hannibal in the leg.

“FBI!  Drop your weapon!” 

The alpha snarled, pulled the knife out and turned, clearly ready to deal with this new intruder.  But his snarl turned to a feral smile of triumph when he saw Will.  “See?  See?”  He pointed at the doctor with the bloody knife.  If Budge was implying he had proven himself the better alpha, he was seriously underestimating his rival.  Hannibal stood, dishevelled and bleeding, but looking more alive than Will had ever seen him, assessing the situation with sharp eyes.  

“I said drop your weapon, _now_!” 

Tobias looked at him, gauging whether the omega would truly follow through on his warning.  He took in Will’s anguished look whenever his eyes darted to Hannibal, and the smile leached out of his face, leaving only a furious grimace.  

He gripped the knife tighter and lunged towards his rival.  The shot took him in the chest.  He was thrown backwards and lay splayed and gurgling on the carpet for what felt to Will like an eternity, but was probably only a few heartbeats. 

He rushed over to Hannibal’s side, who smiled at him wanly and assured him he would be fine, and then carefully approached the body of Tobias Budge.  A last few wet sounds were issuing from his bubbling mouth, but the look he pinned Will with was reproachful.  ‘Yeah, well, that was a shit courting gift, so there’s that.’  Will thought acidly.  He was pointedly not thinking about that cold pit of fear that had sat in his belly until he had burst into the office, until at last he could see he had not been too late.   

He returned to the doctor, and placed the safety back on the gun.  With his shaking hands, it took a couple of tries.  He then phoned for medical assistance and while on the line he became aware of a door opening and voices approaching, and soon after police officers entered the office. 

As his eyes turned towards the door, he noticed another body.  He felt distantly surprised at missing it, but then his whole focus had been on the fight.  Now he recognised the mortal remains of Mr Froideveaux, but he could not spare him more than a passing glance.  

All that mattered was that Hannibal was alive and, though wounded, not bleeding out.  He assured Will his injuries were not severe, and though Will’s reason reluctantly conceded that as a doctor he would be able to assess his own wounds, he could not stop himself from worrying until the paramedics arrived.  As they tended Hannibal he became aware that he was holding the doctor’s hand, with no recollection of having done so.  Some part of him told him he should let go.  The other bared its sharp teeth at it, and clung on.  Hannibal watched him and gave his fingers a gentle squeeze.

Suddenly he felt drained.  The adrenaline crash, the emotional stress, all conspired to make the rest of the evening drag for what felt like hours.  He vaguely remembered answering Jack’s questions as if from a long way off, unaware and uncaring if his answers would satisfy.  Then Hannibal telling the agent how Budge had burst into the room while he was in session with Mr Froideveaux, snapped the man’s neck and attacked him.  He was aware of the doctor having quiet words with Jack, and then they were both being led outside to a police car.  The ride back home was quiet, but mixed with exhaustion was blessed relief. 

 

************

 

Once back in their familiar surroundings he seemed to regain some energy and focus.  He left Hannibal comfortably seated in the living room while he prepared drinks for them both.  When they were settled he took a moment to really look at the man.  He was amazed how collected Dr Lecter was, considering his ordeal.  No shaking hands for him, no nervous sweats.  And yet Hannibal was gazing steadily at him with a fierce proud look, as if _he_ was the one to be admired.  He felt strangely naked under such focus, and had no idea how to react.  His sweat was cooling clammily under his shirt, and he grimaced at the feeling.  He was startled by Hannibal breaking the silence.

“What did you feel when you shot him?”

Will removed his glasses with a weary sigh, and rubbed his face.  “Really, we are doing this now?  Because I don’t think I’m up for this right now.”

A charged silence.  He looked up, not quite meeting the alpha’s eyes, but aware that Hannibal was watching him with a startling intensity, making him feel stripped raw, his feelings laid out like choice cuts on his table.  Except if Hannibal tasted this particular dish, he would be disgusted with Will, and the thought that he could lose the doctor’s regard was making him break out in a sweat again.

“ _Will_.” 

There was such a yearning reverence to his name that it made him startle and look directly into Hannibal’s eyes. 

“I _saw_ you.” 

And Will was there again, in the office.  Hannibal wounded, the bloodied knife, the intruder alpha, he had felt it, felt that sharp clarity, his mind shedding doubts and uncertainties, unburdened by such trivial concerns.  To feel finally unfettered had been so liberating, the joy of it fierce.  It had lasted a few heartbeats, no more, but Hannibal had seen it and he was clearly far from repelled by it.

Hannibal was smiling now, a genuine smile.  “You were magnificent, my little mongoose.”

Will’s eyebrows rose, a little uncertain of this new sobriquet.  But he could not mistake its meaning.  He could still recall vividly the fierceness of his feelings, that the dark alpha would dare attack Hannibal, that he would presume that his victory would win him Will’s favour.  He could feel the echo of those raw emotions bubbling up to the surface, making his very lips twitch in the beginnings of a feral snarl, and he shocked himself again at the sheer power of his own reaction.  He tamped it down ruthlessly, but not before Hannibal saw it.

“In that moment I had no doubts.  He had hurt you, he was a killer.  It felt _right_.”  

He had tried to come between them.  But there was no _them_ , was there?  And that was confusing.  His omega instincts were jumping to conclusions, but he didn’t know how Hannibal felt, and wasn’t prepared to make assumptions.  Shared dangerous experiences made people feel closer, created their own brand of bond.  It was unwise to see beyond that under the circumstances.  They would feel more settled soon, and these feelings would pass.  He couldn’t help the twinge of disappointment at that thought.

Dr Lecter had not stopped his avid observation, but seemed aware of Will’s growing weariness.

“Perhaps we should retire.  We have both had a trying day.”  

Will almost smiled at Hannibal’s gift for understatement.  What with the exhaustion and Hannibal’s injuries, they helped each other upstairs, and bid goodnight.  He was asleep as soon as he hit the pillow.  

 

***************

 

He was amazed to be woken by the sounds of breakfast being made.  Uninterrupted dream free sleep.  He enjoyed the revelation for a few blessed moments, before guilt seeped into his psyche.  Here he was lying in bed while Hannibal was up and about toiling over food while still suffering from injuries.  He pondered whether to shower first or after breakfast, and found himself already pulling on clothes while he was still mentally debating.  Well, clearly his body was taking over all conscious thought this morning.  He had been surprised by the half hard cock that was proving somewhat awkward to stuff into his pants, but put it down (metaphorically speaking) to restful sleep and release of stress, and emphatically avoided any thoughts of Hannibal.  Or his impending heat.  Or that sterile room waiting for him at the clinic, that always left him feeling sad and hollow.  

“Can I help?”

Hannibal turned to him, looking as composed as ever, but with that added warmth that Will had noticed was directed only at himself.  He passed Will a cup of coffee, and he couldn’t help the slight uptick of his pulse at the brief touch of fingers.  He could feel Hannibal’s gaze on him, steady and approving, and he flushed with pleasure, his omegan instincts preening at the attention, before he felt appalled at his reaction.  He focussed all his attention on his coffee, while aware that Hannibal kept sneaking looks at him.  He wasn’t sure how he was going to manage these last few days before his heat, surrounded by Hannibal’s presence.  Perhaps he should consider turning up a day earlier at the clinic.

The waft of delicious food made him realise how hungry he was.  Neither had eaten the night before, and he always got ravenous nearer his heat.  He could not contain the moans of appreciation as he attempted not to hoover up the food, but a furtive glance at the doctor confirmed that Hannibal was pleased at his evident enjoyment.  He knew the psychiatrist was waiting for the right moment to talk about last night’s events, so he thought he might as well start the ball rolling.

“Do you think he meant to kill Mr Froideveaux as well, or was it just back luck for him to be there?”

Hannibal seemed to ponder this, fork delicately poised in mid air. 

“As his alleged friend, he might well have been aware of his appointment with me.  I suspect Mr Budge might have viewed it as a delightful bonus.”

Will made a strangled sound.  Very much like someone aborting a laugh.  He was appalled at his gut reaction and immediately felt guilty.  Hannibal of course had observed all with a slight crinkling of eyes.

“Really, Will, do not be too hard on yourself.  Mr Froideveaux had an unfortunate tendency to be attracted to dangerous people, and I’m frankly surprised he survived this long.” 

Hannibal was indeed surprised that such an irritating nonentity had not suffered a violent death well before yesterday.  At least this saved him the hassle of referring the odious pest to another psychiatrist.  Mr Froideveaux had expected all good things to come to him because he was an omega, and when this biological chance failed to make up for all that he lacked as a person, their sessions had mostly consisted of whinging complaints.  The presumptuous fool had also persistently flirted with him notwithstanding Hannibal’s obvious lack of interest.  It had been most satisfying to snap the man’s neck.

The discussion had not appeared to have dampened Will’s appetite.  He seemed oblivious to the amount he was frankly shovelling, and looked mildly aghast when he realised he had cleared his plate well ahead of his host.  When he looked up to Hannibal a little sheepishly, the doctor was practically beaming as he proceeded to pile more onto his dish.  Will tucked in again, but his thoughts seemed a little far away suddenly.  

“A penny for them.”

“What?”  And as he cottoned on – “Oh, actually I just realised that I’m definitely impinging on your hospitality now.  Tobias Budge is gone, so it’s safe to go back home.  I guess I should leave today.” 

Hannibal had prepared for this eventuality, and he felt his chances of success increase when he noted how Will looked a little dejected, and far from eager to follow up on his own suggestion.  A little gentle manipulation should be enough. 

“My dear Will, I am always delighted to have you as my guest and I hope you realise that you would never overstay your welcome.  Quite the contrary.  After yesterday’s events I think we could both do with some rest and recovery.” 

He rose to get the coffee pot, walking a little more stiffly than necessary, while appearing to hide his discomfort.  When he turned to Will to replenish his cup he knew his acting had paid off.  He had caught Will’s eyes briefly on his injured leg, before he snapped them back to his drink with a mumbled thanks.  Will viewed his friend’s injury at least partly as his own fault, and the doctor knew that he could play on that misplaced guilt to keep him by his side.  Or at least to provide an excuse to himself to stay a while longer, judging by the more settled and relaxed look Will was sporting.

All was well with his world. 

“Would you like to visit Alana and spend some time with your dogs today?”

 

*******************************

 

Will spent the greater part of the daylight hours frolicking with his mutts, while Hannibal looked on indulgently and then fed them some gourmet meat only he could pronounce.  Will was always grateful his dogs were not spoilt by these treats and seemed to be still happy to scarf standard doggie food at other times.  He supposed that being all strays they had endured deprivation and suffering enough to appreciate all good things in life more than pandered pooches.  He thought wryly how this description fitted his own profile.  

Perhaps that was another reason why he felt compelled to rescue them.  When he was younger, and in his more omegan moods, he had wished for his own brand of rescue, for understanding and companionship, yet been realistically aware that his empathy precluded any such relationship.  Now, as he watched Hannibal deftly manoeuvring through the throng of canines, the longing for a connection gripped him anew, but this time a little tendril of hope wriggled its way into his mind.  Hannibal was like no one he had ever met, and what was more incredible, he liked Will, _all_ of him.  

Almost on cue, he caught the older man watching him, and found himself moving towards him without conscious thought.  Hannibal lifted his hand to his face and carefully teased out a withered leaf from his hair.  Will’s eyes fluttered shut and he unconsciously tilted his head towards the touch, before Alana’s voice jolted him back to reality.  He quickly took a step back, but Hannibal smiled at him, extending his hand towards him with a “Shall we?”  They walked in together, and though Alana looked surprised at their shared touch she refrained from commenting on it.

 

Will dozed on the journey back.  All day he had felt a strange mixture of warm comfort and skittish trepidation in Dr Lecter’s company, and was aware that his impending heat was affecting his behaviour towards him.  He would never, in normal circumstances, allow himself to touch Hannibal as often as he had in the last twenty four hours, and yet being aware of this had not stopped him from seeking that comfort.  They were just light touches, lingering just a shade too long to be casual, but Hannibal seemed not just to allow them, but to return them in equal measure.  He never overstepped his bounds, but let Will make the first move.  Always the perfect gentleman, always in control.  And there was that itch again in his reptile brain, warning him to beware. 

Still, just two more days until the clinic beckoned.  He knew that his recent co-habitation with an alpha was heightening his omegan instincts, and decided that tomorrow morning he would regrettably make arrangements for checking in to the clinic earlier than planned. 

 

********************

 

Hannibal pulled in to his drive, brought the car to a smooth stop and killed the engine.  He turned to his sleeping prize, hair ruffled from his running about with the dogs, and a healthy pink to his normally pale cheeks.  There will be a lot more colour to those cheeks by the time Hannibal finished with him.  The raw desire to just _take_ made him clench his fingers around the steering wheel.  He had been patient so far, he must retain control.  For now.  He gently nudged his snoozy omega and steered him to the front door.  

Once in the kitchen, he busied himself with a hearty snack.  They had eaten at Alana’s, Dr Lecter bringing over several containers to make sure his omega wouldn’t go hungry, but even so he knew Will’s recent ravenous appetite needed a little extra sustenance.  Their little ritual of a post prandial beverage had been an easy way for Hannibal to carefully doctor Will’s drink throughout his stay, small doses meant to bring forward an omega’s oncoming heat, and subtle enough not to arouse suspicion.  He had been delighted with Will’s growing desire for physical contact, but it had been very hard to leave it to the omega to initiate all touching.  Still, with any luck he could abandon all such restraint tomorrow.


	4. Chapter 4

“Fuck!”

Will woke sweating, thoughts frazzled with desire, a most insistent erection tenting the sodden sheets.  As he struggled to unpeel himself from the bed covers, he was aware that not all the dampness was sweat.  The smell of his own slick was creating a feedback loop in his addled brain, heightening sensation and shooting ever more urgent messages to his body to prepare for sex.  His cock twitched and leaked onto his stomach, where a little pool of precome had made a home in the dip of his belly button.  Everything ached with delicious need.

“ _Fuck_!”

He moaned and attempted to slip out of bed.  He needed his phone.  He needed to call the clinic _right now_ , and they would send one of their staff to escort him there.  He tried not to think about how much the very idea was abhorrent, when everything else cried out that here was a willing capable alpha who would _pin him down and fuck him to oblivion – is that so much to ask?_   Christ, where the fuck was that phone? 

He scrabbled and delved through his clothing, but came up with nothing.  Neither was it on the bedside table.  Or anywhere in the room.  As scrambled as his thoughts were, he felt he could still recall the shape and size of the device enough to see it in the relatively uncluttered guest room, if indeed it was there.  He swayed for a few seconds, rallying his mind to some coherent plan.  His phone must be in his coat pocket downstairs.  Could he make it downstairs in this state?  What if Hannibal was already up?  

Unbidden his mind threw up an image of the doctor, in the kitchen with rolled up sleeves showing capable arms, cooking for him, feeding him, taking care of him.  The image made him swallow and sent a trickle of slick down his leg.  ‘Not helping’, he berated his traitorous body.  Nonetheless he dived for the door.  He had to get out before all logical thought abandoned him, and hoped Hannibal’s iron control would make up for any shortcomings of his own.

He almost collided with the doctor just outside his door.  He reeled for a moment, overcome by his alpha scent, then blurted something about his clinic and heat and needing to leave.  After a few heartbeats he was aware that Hannibal had spectacularly failed to move from his spot.  

Will’s eyes had remained lowered in an attempt to remove at least the visual stimuli, but without his own volition they now moved up the doctor’s body, lingering longingly on his silk encased legs, which accentuated his long muscled limbs, and then stopping at his crotch, where a mouth-watering erection was straining at the fabric, and spreading a dark patch where the moist head of his cock stained the silk.  Taut muscles of belly, chest, shoulders, greeted his hungry eyes, and then those capable arms lifted to cup his face and bring his eyes to Hannibal’s.  Dark pits of hunger looked into his own before warm lips descended on his, eagerly claiming, savage and passionate, and everything he wanted them to be.

All coherent thoughts were washed away in the surge of heatlust.  Hannibal grabbed his arse and Will wrapped his legs around his waist and was carried to the alpha’s bedroom, where he was dropped onto the bed, and his sleep clothes fairly ripped off him.  He revelled in the violence of the act.  It felt right, honest, a shedding of pretence, a baring of their true natures.  It fed something inside of him, something dark and buried, which lifted its muzzle and snarled.  He was not even aware he was growling, but the fierce look from Hannibal showed his delight.

Hannibal’s own sleepwear suffered a similar fate as Will grabbed and pulled and ripped.  Soon they were skin on skin, their sweat and scent mixing and heightening all their senses to a feverish delirium.  Will stroked Hannibal’s cock and relished the slippery glide of it in his fist, lost in the sensual feel of the heated skin.  His instincts were torn between the need to explore and touch, and coupling quickly to ensure successful mating.  Hannibal watched him, lips parted and eyes half lidded, clearly enjoying the attention, before quickly positioning himself and driving into his omega.  The stretch was unbearably glorious and Will was lost as ecstasy flooded him.  

The walls came down, the floodgates opened.  His being had known only desert and here was water at last.  Hannibal’s touch, his scent, his voice were brands on his flesh and soul, whispered promises of fulfilment and an end to the pain of loneliness.  Will’s eyes sought Hannibal’s and he was caught in those dark fathomless depths, drowning in them.  For a moment they transformed into pools of blood and the familiar metallic taste flooded his mind.  The call was visceral – blood to blood, flesh to flesh – he was clawing at Hannibal’s shoulders without realising it, feverish eyes devouring his alpha.  And Hannibal’s answering smile was his world.

 

The following days were a sensual feast of couplings.  Bites and scratches littered their bodies, which did nothing but incite them to further mark each other.  Occasionally hunger would compel them to abandon the bedroom and raid the kitchen, but once that hunger was sated the other would overwhelm them again.  Towards the end of his heat Will was aware that the sex had become more languid and relaxed, and his sore body appreciated the change of pace.  He found he was immediately asleep after, indeed sometimes while he was still being gently fucked.

 

**********************

 

He was roused from delicious sleep.  He could hear a phone ringing, then Hannibal talking.  It was as if the words were coming to him underwater, distorted and nonsensical.  He felt he should be able to make them out if he tried, but wasn’t sure he could be arsed to make that kind of effort.  

He opened his eyes and his vision was filled with his alpha, his breathing with his scent.  He shook the cobwebs from his mind and caught the very tail end of the conversation.  He frowned.  Hannibal had no right to sound so put together.  He caught the doctor looking his way, and he stretched languorously and smiled, aware of how his body’s movements were affecting his mate.  

“Thank you for letting me know.  Goodbye, Miss Katz.”

“That was Beverley?  What happened?”

“Nothing for you to fret about, my dear Will.”  

All lecherous thoughts screeched to a halt.  “Ok, when you say that, I know there is something to fret about.  So out with it.”  And at Hannibal’s silence.  “You realise I could just phone her back, right?”

Hannibal sighed.  “It appears that Miss Lounds was staking out your clinic at the time you were expected there.  When you did not appear she investigated, somehow found out you were staying with me, and drew her own, admittedly correct, conclusions.”

Will ground the heels of his hands into his eyes, trying to ignore the rising anger.  “Are you reading it right now?”

“Uhm, yes.  Miss Katz sent me the link.  According to Miss Lounds I have mated you to ensure exclusive rights to the devious workings of your mind, and to further my career by writing papers about you.”  And at Will’s horrified look – “To be fair, I most certainly enjoy the devious workings of your mind, but I’m far too possessive to share them with anyone else.”  

Will was very quiet.  Hannibal sat on the bed and stroked his frowny face.  He was all too aware of the profiler’s lack of confidence and was determined to put a stop to any lingering doubts.  

“I will confess that I am completely fascinated by you, but I assure you the interest ceased to be in any way professional a long time ago.  Indeed I have harboured exceedingly unprofessional thoughts about you for some time.  Will you forgive me?”

Will raised a playful eyebrow.  “Depends.”

“Oh?”

“Are you harbouring them right now?”

Hannibal’s answer was to card his fingers through his hair, massaging and scratching, and Will found his eyes quickly closing and his head leaning towards his alpha’s touch.  As Hannibal tenderly turned his head to expose his neck, there was the gentle laving of tongue and suction that sent shivers down his body, and very soon all extraneous thoughts unravelled from his blissed out mind like smoke drifting in the wind.

 

********************

 

Will was prepared for the intrusive questions he would doubtless be bombarded with when he went to work the following day, and had mentally psyched himself to face the gamut of emotions ranging from an angry Jack to an over ebullient Bev.  

Some of this tension must have shown when the latter took one look at him, and quickly reined back in whatever had been about to bubble forth.  He was incredibly grateful to her when all she did was bestow on him a warm mischievous smile, squeeze his arm reassuringly and peck him on the cheek.  He felt a little bolstered by that, and reckoned it was best to get his meeting with Jack over with while the feeling lasted, and stepped into the agent’s office ready to defend himself and Hannibal.  

He was somewhat surprised when Jack heaved a sigh and tiredly gestured for Will to sit down.  Jack did not look angry, merely worn round the edges.  For the first time Will noticed the tiredness on his face, the signs of ageing that his normally forceful character managed to hide.  He felt a little uncomfortable, like having to face his dad when he had disappointed him.  Then a suspicion bubbled to the surface.  Was Jack acting like this purposely to make him feel guilty?  He risked a quick look to his face.  There was something he never thought he’d see on it.  Resignation.

“Well, I guess congratulations are in order.”

“Uhm, thanks.”

Jack smiled a little ruefully.  “Don’t look so surprised.  I can hardly say I’m happy about this, and trust me I was pretty pissed when I first saw that article.  In fact, I thought it was bullshit until I phoned the clinic and found out you never turned up.  They told me they tried to get hold of you, and Dr Lecter assured them you were being taken care of.”

Will felt himself blushing at the memory of Hannibal taking care of him.  There was a truly awkward moment when Jack was aware of what his words must have sounded like, and there was throat clearing and shuffling of papers on his desk.

“So, what now?”

A tired sigh.  “Well, apparently that all depends on your alpha.  Will Dr Lecter allow you to continue working for us?”

“Well, I’m here.”  And at Jack’s doubtful look.  “Alphas are supposed to be pretty possessive just after a heat, and yet he waved me goodbye and wished me a good day at the office.  Sounds like he is happy for me to carry on working.”  

Jack nodded thoughtfully.  Dr Lecter had always been a different sort of alpha, and Will could already see how the agent’s mind was considering this new aspect of the man, and calculating how it could work very well in the BAU’s favour.  Perhaps all was not lost.  A little familiar glint was returning to Jack’s eyes.  Oddly enough, that made Will feel a little better.  The new dispirited Jack had been disconcerting.  He could only cope with so many changes in his life in one go.

“Well” – some of the verve returning to his voice – “let’s carry on as usual then, and if Dr Lecter objects to anything we can talk about it.  You have classes, yes?”

Will excused himself to go to the lecture room.  He was actually looking forward to class.  He felt... he wasn’t sure what he felt, exactly, but the very fact he was positively anticipating his time teaching was indicative of a shift in perspective.  Perhaps it was merely the lingering wellbeing of his mating, but it felt like something more, something deeper.  All those articles about the mental benefits of mating surfaced in his mind, no longer dry and academic, but fleshed out with experience and feeling, and making him buoyant and confident.  Someone loved him, enough to put up with his crazy weirdness.  Enough to want to be his mate.  

 

******************

 

Hannibal had waved his sweet Will goodbye.  The temptation to keep him inside the den, to stop all eyes feasting on his mate had been intense.  But he set those instincts aside.  Surrendering to them in this instance would achieve nothing but resentment in Will.  Soon enough his mate would be carrying his child and any decisions about his future with the Bureau could be comfortably deferred until then.  

Of course Will might rail about the inefficacy of the heat-after pill, even knowing that such things are not foolproof (and certainly not when a placebo has been administered).  But in the end Will’s omega nature and his own individual desire for fulfilment and belonging would win out, and Hannibal was reasonably confident he would come round quickly to the idea of family.  And he himself would appear as the perfect mate, supporting his omega and not pressurising him in any obvious way.  

The thought of Will heavy with child was sending the most delicious sparks of contentment throughout his mind, replete with deep satisfaction.  Will, at last so heavy he could barely leave the bedroom, let alone the house.  Yes, Hannibal liked that scenario very much.  He was getting hard.  He thought idly about retiring to their bed and masturbating in a room still saturated with their heat scent, but decided to wait until his Will returned.  A potentially stressful day at the office would translate nicely into some energetic coupling.  

One pleasurable thought led to another.  His acquaintances were right.  It had been some time since his last feast.  But now the opportunity certainly presented itself.  What better way to celebrate his mating and show off his beautiful Will than a banquet?

 

*******************

 

The next few days felt almost like a dream to Will.  His colleagues had been supportive in a fairly quiet non intrusive way, for which he intuited he owed Bev a thanks.  She was looking intensely smug, especially whenever she caught Zeller’s eye.  He guessed he had been the biggest loser in the betting pool, though thankfully his mild resentment was aimed squarely at Bev.  

Brian seemed to view Will’s mating with a surprising degree of equanimity, until Will remembered his argument that some alphas desired more in their mates than looks and scents.  He realised he had always pegged Zeller as a typical alpha, and felt a bit ashamed that he had viewed his impassioned argument as merely standard defence, rather than genuine belief.  

As far as Zeller was concerned, a prime alpha had proved him right, and his loss was a small price to pay for that victory.  Of course this made Will curious about Brian’s bet, and Bev was all too happy to answer any questions that highlighted her victory and perspicacity.  Will had been amazed that Zeller’s chosen date had been merely one month longer than Katz’s, making him the closest to victory after her.  

He looked back on that conversation he had chanced upon in the lab, and wondered at the almost prescient events that followed.  A psychotic alpha had indeed taken a sick shine to him and attempted to court him.  Yet that very danger had pushed Hannibal and himself closer than ever.  

And he remembered his own words delivered, he was sure, with a rather detached, slightly cynical edge to them, about the mental benefits of mating.  And yet here he was, enjoying those benefits to the full.  Life was odd, he had always known that, but for the first time it seemed it could also be good.  

He smiled to himself when he recalled Price’s teasing of Zeller, and was grateful that at least _there_ events had proved the man wrong.  Discerning alphas were not just psychotic ones.  And no one could claim to be more discerning than Hannibal. 

 

****************

 

Hannibal had casually informed Will that he had ordered a few items of clothing which he felt would suit him and would be needed for some of their outings.  Will had predictably been somewhat resistant, but could not in truth deny the claim that he lacked anything remotely suitable for the more social engagements the doctor was thinking of.  And so this was the perfect opportunity for the doctor to inform Will about his plans for a lavish dinner.  Will paled and, aware he could not altogether escape the event, attempted to defer it to a later date.  

“My dear Will, it would give me great pleasure to introduce you as my mate in an appropriate setting.  Allow me this one time to show you off as you deserve.”

Will blushed at the flattery, as he always did.  He wasn’t sure he would ever get used to it, used to someone thinking so highly of him.  But he acknowledged that the society his mate moved in had certain expectations, and it would likely be seen as odd that someone like Dr Lecter would fail to celebrate his mating in his inimitable style.  At least he had a good two weeks to psyche himself for it.  

He sighed, resigned, and plastered an uncertain smile on his face that had Hannibal bestow on him a look of understanding.

“Just one evening, my love.  I promise to make it as painless as possible.”  

 

*************************

 

The clothes had arrived and Hannibal had disposed of them.  Now he pottered about in the kitchen, ostensibly busying himself with preparing dinner, while all senses were tuned in to his mate upstairs.  Will always showered after work.  He knew Hannibal was susceptible to other people’s scents on him, but he also thoroughly enjoyed the luxurious comfort of their en suite.  

Hannibal listened to him shower, then heard the water turn off.  His muffled steps led to the wardrobe, where he would grab a change of clothes.  Silence.  Tentative shuffling, followed by more frantic scrabbling.  Drawers opening and closing.  A more ominous cessation of sound.  Stomping out the room and down the stairs.  Hannibal smiled.  Sometimes he amused himself in trying to gauge how his mate would react to certain occurrences, and this time he was spot on.

Will stood bewildered and somewhat dripping, a bath towel cinched around his waist.  “What on earth, Hannibal!”

The doctor raised an eyebrow in an attempt at innocent enquiry, which his mate clearly wasn’t falling for.  Hannibal viewed Will’s choice of clothes with a polite dose of aesthetic abhorrence, and made no secret of it, and now a horrible suspicion seemed to be surfacing in the profiler’s mind.

“What happened to my clothes?”

Hannibal appeared somewhat subdued.  “My dear Will, I would never dream of disposing of anything of yours without checking with you first.  There was not enough space, so I took the liberty of moving them into the wardrobe and chest of drawers in the spare bedroom.  If you wish, you may reverse the order, and put your new clothes there instead.”

He could see Will’s embarrassed blush, realising how ungrateful he sounded, and obviously feeling guilty at having upset his mate.  Though Hannibal acted as the perfect gentleman as usual, Will clearly felt he was hurt that his gift had not been appreciated.

“Oh, god, I’m sorry!  I didn’t mean to sound so ungrateful.  The clothes are beautiful and...” – he added a little shyly and obviously cringing at sounding so omegan – “really soft.  It’s just... when you said I needed a few things, I did not expect a whole new wardrobe.”

Hannibal let his mate stew in delicious guilt for only a few heartbeats longer, enough to subtly convey that his feelings had indeed been hurt and that he was attempting to compose himself; but also brief enough to reinforce the illusion that the doctor was a most reasonable and forgiving man.  Will would be in the perfect emotional state now to readily accept a gift he would otherwise be uncomfortable with, and no doubt much more ready to wear the new clothes in preference to his old wardrobe.  The items in the spare room would doubtless quietly be forgotten, possibly even tainted with recollections of guilt.  The thought made him smile with genuine pleasure, and Will sighed in relief, mistaking the reason for it.

“At least I won’t have to wonder about your courting gift any more.”

Hannibal looked somewhat pained.  “My love, I hope you don’t think that a mere change of clothing would constitute my courting gift to you.  I assure you, I have been planning that for a while, and it will hardly be anything as mundane as clothes.”

“Oh, god, please don’t spend a ridiculous amount on it.  It would just make me uncomfortable.  And I don’t need anything.” – And at Hannibal’s mildly sceptical look – “Yeah, ok, maybe I did need some clothes.”

“Don’t worry, Will, it won’t be anything like that.  But I hope you will find it beautiful.”

“I’m sure with your taste, it could be nothing else.”

Hannibal smiled a little sheepishly.  “I suppose I did get a little carried away with the clothes.”

Will smirked.  “A little?”

“Most of them are omegan made.  Softer, lighter, yet warm, meant to appeal to your keen sense of touch.  To softly wrap your body and caress your skin.”  

As he spoke he advanced on his mate.  Will’s blush was quite an arousing sight now, coupled with the dilation of his pupils and the slight tenting of the towel.  It was Hannibal’s turn to smirk a little, while pushing him against the wall and pinning his arms above his head, sucking hard on that delectable spot under his ear.  Will was panting, uttering the most delicious sounds.

Hannibal whispered into that tasty shell.  “I imagined how you would look in them, and how they would feel to the touch as I slipped them off you.”

“Nghh!”

He had meant only to tease, but his own arousal was now quite distracting.  Dinner would have to wait.  


	5. Chapter 5

Their interactions followed a similar pattern to those prior to their mating, but with the welcome addition of a great deal of sex.  Will was embarrassingly aware that it didn’t take much to get him going, and having had very little experience, he felt somewhat overwhelmed by the intensity of his own desire.  Thankfully Hannibal was more than capable of satisfying it, and Will was amazed by the man’s stamina and strength.  

He insisted on retaining his old home for the time being.  As much as he never regretted his mating, he still needed time to deal with the changes in his life, and liked to go there when he wanted his own space and of course time with his dogs.  There was also good fishing to be had nearby, and the pack loved the area.      

He felt a little guilty for not being there every day, even though the deluxe pet service Hannibal had insisted on employing clearly catered to their every need while he was away in Baltimore.  Still, he couldn’t wait until they were reunited.  Hannibal had already made arrangements for appropriate housing for them in the garden, but they both agreed that their removal would be better done after the banquet.

His mate was very understanding about Will’s needs, even advising him on staying the night there on the few occasions when he had been very tired or the weather had taken a turn for the worse, and driving back to Baltimore had been inadvisable.  

This was most fortuitous, saving the doctor the excuse of late house calls to patients, or finalising arrangements for the dinner.  Although he could hardly have been accused of dissembling on that last one.  He placed the last sealed packet of meat in the fridge with a quiet sense of satisfaction.  The few disappearances would not involve any delving by the FBI, since he had made sure to dispose of the remains very well.  At most the police would be involved in a few missing cases.  

 

****************

 

Will stayed away on the day while the preparations were in full swing.  He relaxed with his dogs and energetically joined in their play.  Once he felt they had all exercised themselves silly, he brought them back in, fed and watered them, and reluctantly bid them goodbye.  

Although uncomfortable about the evening’s event, the physical workout had helped to remove the worst of his nervous energy, as well as happily pass away the intervening hours.  By the time he pulled into the drive he felt reasonably ready to face what was coming, and had blessedly little time to dwell on it before showering and donning the elegant blue suit his mate had suggested.

He knew Alana would be there, and that Hannibal had pointedly not invited Jack.  He informed Will he didn’t trust the agent to keep off the subject of work, and he intended for his mate to enjoy the evening, and not to be reminded of his emotionally draining job.  Will was grateful.  He saw enough of Jack without wishing for him to inhabit his social circles as well.

As the first guests began to arrive, Will was pleasantly surprised to note the two from the opera whose conversation he had enjoyed.  He renewed the acquaintance, and as the pre-dinner mingling continued he realised that Hannibal had cherry picked his guests to ensure Will’s comfort.  A warm wave of gratitude rose in him as he spotted the doctor across the room, so easy and relaxed while holding audience.  He realised he must be sporting a love-struck look when he caught a few cooing whispers about newly mated, and promptly tore his gaze away.

 

The actual dinner was of course sumptuous and immaculately presented, but the food itself was a little too rich for Will’s taste.  He was quite used to Hannibal’s cooking, but this was a level of sophistication even above that, and the predominance of offal, as fancifully cooked as it was, was still a little off-putting.  The sheer number of dishes was a little daunting as well, and he managed three before giving up.  

Will didn’t have a sweet tooth, but pudding was decidedly welcome to somewhat clear his mouth of the meaty taste, and coffee was heavenly, as always.  He might have moaned a little around his cup, by the odd look he got from his neighbour, but at least this time he wasn’t looking at Hannibal, so it couldn’t be misconstrued as something else. 

Post dinner conversation was wonderfully relaxed, guests satisfied and replete with food and general goodwill.  And wine.  Except for himself.  Since his mating he had noticed Hannibal cutting down on the amount of alcohol both of them drank, and was at first suspicious that the doctor was hinting about his drinking habit and attempting to curtail it.  Then he realised that he did in fact _have_ a drinking habit, and Hannibal had been kind enough never to mention it, merely reducing or replacing their intake.  

If he was being honest, Will found he didn’t mind it much.  When times were bad (and there had been plenty of those) it had been a means to cope.  But his life was very different now, and he didn’t feel the need to drink.  And he appreciated very much that his mate would join him in solidarity, since he knew how much Hannibal enjoyed a good glass of wine.

“What’s that you’re drinking?”

Alana peered curiously at Will’s glass, no doubt wondering herself why there was no alcohol in it.

“Apple juice.”

She tilted her head and gave him an assessing look.  He was glad she had never been his psychiatrist.  Just that gaze was unnerving him.

She caught his bunny-in-the-headlights look, and relaxed into a self-deprecating smile.

“Sorry, I wasn’t psychoanalysing you, honest.  It was just a speculative scrutiny.”

He tentatively smiled back.  “I’m not sure how much better that is.”  

His relationship with Alana had been a little awkward of late.  She had always had a tendency to be protective of him, and initially had been angry at Hannibal at what she perceived as his taking advantage of the omega’s sudden heat, until Will spent some time reassuring her that had not been the case.  Still, he felt she was still somehow looking out for him and perhaps judging Hannibal’s influence on him.  

“He is not pressurising me in any way.  This is still my decision.”

Alana made no attempt to hide her mischievous smile.  “That is not where I was going with this.”

Will reviewed their exchange and was unable to see what she was getting at.  

“Oh?”  He admitted in defeat.

She actually giggled, almost spilling her drink.  “You really are adorable when you don’t see the obvious.”

Well, clearly it wasn’t anything derogatory about his mate, so Will instantly relaxed and waited with raised eyebrows for Alana to explain.

“Tell me, Will, what possible reason could there be for a newly mated omega not to drink?”

Will’s eyes grew impossibly large, sending Alana into another fit of giggles, and bringing their conversation to the attention of his mate.  Hannibal made his way to them, curiosity evident since they were now both looking at him, Alana still vastly amused, and Will with a stunned expression Hannibal was unable to decipher.

“I think I’ll leave you two to discuss it.”  Alana turned away with a sly smile.

Hannibal watched her go, giving his Will a few more seconds to compose himself.  Their interaction had garnered a few looks and there was still obvious curiosity as to their topic of conversation.  Will still looked a little flustered when he turned back to him.  Hannibal was itching to know what could have put that expression on his sweet face, but contented himself with leaving the issue up to his mate, merely raising an eyebrow in polite enquiry.  

“Uhm, later.  It’s nothing, she was just pulling my leg.”

Hannibal nodded and observed the slight flush as his mate drained his glass.  He gestured for a refill, and Will was grateful when they were accosted by one of their guests and plunged into conversation again.

 

******************

 

Once all the guests had left and they were alone at last, Will could honestly admit to Hannibal that he had enjoyed the evening.  As tired as he was, however, that niggling matter was pressing for attention and he needed to sort it out before attempting to sleep.

“Alana teased me about the apple juice.  Dropped a not so subtle hint I might be pregnant.”

Hannibal’s control was as always impeccable, but Will could see the (hopeful?) glint in his eye.  They had never got round to discussing children, and the doctor had readily given Will the heat-after pill when he asked for it.  Again, an unusual move for an alpha.

“Is there something you wish to tell me, Will?”

Will huffed a laugh and rolled his eyes.  “Hardly.  Except maybe I’m really easy to tease.  But still, it got me thinking.  I mean, do you think I might be?  Is that why, you know... the apple juice...”

“You flatter me, Will, but my senses are not quite that acute.” 

“But... I had the heat-after pill, so it’s unlikely, yes?”

“Unlikely, but still possible.  It’s not foolproof.”

Will was beginning to feel he should have left this conversation until tomorrow, or, you know, never.

“My dear Will, there is no point in speculation.  I could get you a pregnancy kit right now, and we can put your uncertainty to rest.”  

Will sighed.  This was ridiculous.  Alana had been teasing him and he was overreacting.  

“No, thanks.  I’m being an idiot.  It can wait until tomorrow.  Anyway, I’m sure she was joking.”

They made their way to bed, but as tired as he was it took Will a while to finally fall asleep.  

When he did he dreamt he was heavily pregnant and making his way through thick undergrowth towards his home in Wolf Trap.  As he struggled to walk he realised what he was wading through was not vegetation but entrails, and by the time he finally arrived, he was soiled with blood and gore.  

Hannibal was waiting for him on the porch, sitting on a pile of bodies.  He smiled at his appearance and told him now he was pregnant he should wear something appropriate.  He lifted blood soaked clothes from the ground and offered them with a proud smile.  

Will had no memory of changing into them, but suddenly he was fully dressed and sitting at his kitchen table, where a mound of organs sat on a large plate, uncooked and glistening with recent life.  Hannibal beamed at him from across the table.  “You must feed, my love.  You are eating for two now.”

 

************************

 

Hannibal busied himself with breakfast, indulging his imagination with the planning of the nursery.  He had known the chances of Will being pregnant from his heat were high, but still there had been room for doubt.  He had hardly taken care of himself before Hannibal, and his physical state coupled with his previous stress levels might not have been conducive to a pregnancy this time round.  

So it had been with some complacency that he had noted the change in his omega’s scent during the last couple of weeks.  He had been careful about implementing any measures that would alert Will of his state.  His mate needed a little time to get used to his new life, and being immediately aware of a pregnancy when he had been confident he was not at risk would only have upset him.  

Hannibal could not have foreseen Alana’s perceptive hint, but there was no help for it now.  He would have preferred a little more time, but the big event was over, the dogs would be joining them in a couple of days, and so on the whole he couldn’t complain.

The doctor had been regulating their intake of alcohol from the beginning, just in case.  He tended to drink wine, and had been gently steering his partner’s tastes towards his choice, mostly by the simple expedient of placing a decanter on the table during their meals.  Will, with his scant knowledge of wines and lack of familiarity with the taste, would be unable to note that all the drink was non-alcoholic.  He did hold some beers in the fridge, but these were in their original bottles and clearly labelled as lacking any inebriating qualities.  Will had grudgingly admitted they were not bad, and seemed happy to occasionally have them.  His consumption of whisky had also dramatically lessened, and Hannibal was confident that self-regulation worked best in this instance.  Will still retained some feelings of shame with regards to his self-medication through strong drink, so there were uncomfortable connotations with whisky that were not shared with wine or beer.

All in all, therefore, Hannibal was well pleased with how things were turning out.  He felt Will might be ready to face his pregnancy now, and he was planning the colour scheme of the nursery when he heard him coming down the stairs.

Will claimed he was a little queasy, and insisted on a light breakfast.  Hannibal had been up early to deal with the little remaining debris from the party, and had already ventured outside, so his mate was presented with an impeccably clean kitchen, and a discreetly packaged pregnancy kit on the counter.  

Will sat silently at the table, managing a few listless mouthfuls before noticing Hannibal’s attentive scrutiny.

He sighed, but there was amusement in his voice.  “No, Dr Lecter, this is not morning sickness.  I think the meal was a little rich for my taste.”  He suspected the queasiness was more due to the odd dream than the food itself, but it seemed nonsensical to mention that.

Hannibal returned the amused tone.  “As your mate, and a doctor, you can hardly blame me for my concern.  Indeed I was going to suggest that a massage might alleviate some of the discomfort you are feeling.  There are particular pressure points in an omega that can be very ... relaxing.  But” – he added with a little smirk as Will’s interest perked up – “if you feel I am being too solicitous perhaps we should leave that for another time.”

Hannibal watched the progress of Will’s arousal with delight.  He never failed to excite his omega, and even allowing for their recent mating, the ease of this achievement was gratifyingly heady.

Will still got caught up in moments of shyness, which Hannibal found most endearing, and he looked away to compose himself.  His gaze fell upon the paper bag from the chemist’s, and with a sigh he rose from the table, took it up and disappeared upstairs. 

Hannibal cleared the breakfast things and remained downstairs, giving Will time for the tests to offer their results and for his mate to compose himself.  After what felt like a generous interval, he decided Will might need him after all.  The bathroom door was ajar and revealed Will sitting on the toilet lid, staring at the plastic sticks with a mix of dismay and disbelief.  The doctor had made sure to include three different types, so the outcome could not be gainsaid.

Will looked up, still a bit shell shocked.  “Hannibal...”

Hannibal knelt by his side, cupped his face and gently kissed him.  “I want this very much, beloved.  But are you happy?”

Some of Will’s tension ebbed away.  His mate was pleased.  “It’s a ... surprise.  I won’t deny that.  I need a little time to get used to the idea.  But” – and he met Hannibal’s eyes with uncertainty clear in his own – “I’m not sure how good a father I’m going to be, how ready I am for this.  I never expected ... or, I mean, I thought I’d have more time...”

Hannibal kissed him again, slow and gentling.  When he pulled away he looked earnestly into Will’s eyes.  “Do not doubt yourself, my love.  I know what you are capable of, I hope you will realise it too.  And I will always be with you.”   

Will was not remotely embarrassed when he flung his arms around Hannibal.  His heart was so full he could not even speak.  He wondered how he could possibly deserve such happiness.

 

******************

 

The following days were filled with an odd mix of contentment and trepidation.  It was wonderful to finally be surrounded by his pack, and Will spent hours in their comforting company.  It helped to relax him and allowed him to take stock of all that had happened so recently.

And he couldn’t help the suspicion that Hannibal had been somewhat sparing with the truth about his pregnancy.  He knew how superior his mate’s sense of smell was, and doubted he had been unaware of Will’s altered scent.  This, coupled with the changes in their drinking, reinforced that notion.  

Hannibal believed he had been very clever with his choices of non-alcoholic wines, but unfamiliar as Will was with subtleties of vintage, he could still tell if there was alcohol in it (especially when he searched carefully and eventually found the empty bottles carefully stashed prior to disposal).  

He felt a little guilty about prying, but then he had been a cop, and now worked for the FBI, and some habits become ingrained.  He did suffer from the occasional flare of frustrated anger at what he perceived as being coddled, and he felt this was one of those times.  Hannibal was presumably sheltering him from knowledge he perceived Will was not quite ready to face, and he was torn between resentment at his presumption, and painfully acknowledging that in this case at least it might have been for the best.  

He sat on a bench watching his dogs exploring the nearby park, being somewhat more tentative than in their familiar surroundings, snuffling at the base of trees, and occasionally sneezing at a particularly pungent scent.  They were all having to adapt.  He thought of how Hannibal had changed his life to fit Will into it.  He knew his mate had no interest in pets, yet here he was readily changing his home environment to fit Will’s collection of canines.  They were both still adjusting to their shared lives, and he guiltily acknowledged that Hannibal was being accommodating and gracious, while he wallowed in lingering suspicion and resentment.  He felt he was being unreasonable, unjust, absurd.  He was thoroughly ashamed.  

Winston trotted up to him and pushed his nose into his limp hand, as usual aware of his mood, and Will stroked him gratefully.  He called the pack over and made his way back home, determined to try his best and not sabotage his own happiness.

 

****************************

 

Hannibal had been most understanding about Will’s desire to continue working, although claiming that if pushed to offer an opinion on the matter, he would prefer that his mate would revert to teaching, rather than be involved in stressful situations in the field.  However if the profiler would go to crime scenes, the doctor insisted he too would attend.

This suited Will very well, and Jack was understandably delighted, and could look forward to some useful team work that would stand the potential scrutiny of his superiors.  The use of a mated omega accompanied by their mate was a very different proposition to an unmated one with an unofficial connection to a psychiatrist, no matter how eminent.

So on this particular occasion, Jack was almost chipper when he reached for his phone to call the profiler.

 

Will was not so naive or steeped into honeymoon bliss as to believe that the happy state of affairs he had enjoyed would last.  However he had not expected its demise to be quite so spectacular.  Jack’s tense phone call got him out of the house in record time.  He was familiar with the agent’s tone, and he had no doubts that Jack believed this one to be the work of the Ripper.  He sighed and prepared himself to dole out the inevitable disappointment.  All the previous disturbing ripples had turned out to be shark fins and not the telltale signs of Jack’s white whale, but the agent always thought the Ripper would return and he would get his chance to apprehend him. 


	6. Chapter 6

There were certainly a lot of flowers.  The body was propped up against a cherry tree, arranged in a pose reminiscent of a St Sebastian in the ecstasy of his martyrdom, the framing of white petals creating a stunning display where beauty and horror shared the honours in disturbing harmony.  The man’s chest and abdominal cavities gaped open, most of the internal organs removed, but the space filled with a profusion of flowers elegantly arranged.  Bold hydrangeas, graceful columbines and showy marigolds bloomed, the cornucopia of colours and shapes subtly complemented by sprigs of simple delicate white mock orange.  The effect was startling and Will found his breath catching at the sight.  

“It’s him, isn’t it?”  There was no mistaking the excitement in Jack’s tone, the eagerness for the hunt. 

“Yes, it’s the Ripper.”

“But this feels different, wouldn’t you say?”

“There is something personal about this.”  He could feel a prickling at the nape of his neck, an awareness of the killer, as if he stood just behind him and let out his breath against his skin.  He shivered and hugged himself.

Jack was eyeing him intently.  “Personal how?”  

“I’m not sure.” – he evaded – “He’s never left any clues as to how or why he chooses his victims, Jack.  And yet now he seems to be doing just that.”  At Jack’s interrogative raised eyebrow Will enlightened him on the theme implied in the very specific flowers used.

“When you find out his identity you’ll find an abused partner.”

“He’s not a vigilante, and he’s not driven by moral reasons, so why is he doing this?”

“I don’t know.”  

He registered Jack’s frustrated huff as a mere distraction.  His mind was in turmoil, he needed to think.  There was a thrumming intensity just under his skin, an awareness of something insidiously intimate in the display.  This was a gift, uniquely crafted for him.  

And yet this was not evoking any of those sensations that Budge’s offering had.  No, there was real beauty here.  Like echoes of a half-forgotten dream, something was skirting on the edge of his awareness.  He attempted to follow it, and yet it seemed to evade him.  He sighed.  The Ripper’s work tended to evoke in him emotional responses that defied rational analysis.

He was baffled by the possessiveness he felt when he viewed the riveting tableau, the guilty pleasure in admiring the breathtaking offering meant for himself, and a desire to keep that part of this scenario private.  

He instinctively turned to look for his alpha, yearning for his steady presence and calm, though at the same time sure that Hannibal would not be pleased by this courting gift any more than he was by the previous one.  He was therefore surprised by his alpha’s piercing look, seemingly searching for Will’s reaction, and barely maintaining his usual composure.  To any outsider the doctor appeared as contained as always, but Will knew his mate enough to observe the simmering excitement in his posture and the sharp glint in his eye.  But not annoyance or anger or disapproval.  

Will was still trying to work this out when the team approached, ready to process the scene.  Price was heard jokingly muttering to anyone who would hear (everyone, it was a loud mutter meant to carry) that _someone_ was getting all the attention, and really shouldn’t courting gifts be offered _before_ an omega was mated?  Zeller looked shocked by this interpretation, and then seemed more upset by the breach in etiquette than the body.  

_What’s wrong with flowers or chocolates_?

The recollection popped into Will’s head almost eliciting a hysterical giggle.  Well, at least the Ripper knew how to court, in his own twisted way.  Although how twisted it could be when Will found it so beautiful, he was not prepared to dwell upon.

The accompanying guilt and the presence of the team combined to break the spell he seemed to be under, and he turned away after one last lingering look, which was not wasted on his mate.  Great, if Hannibal had not been aware of Will’s appreciation before, which was doubtful, he certainly would be now.  He was not looking forward to their conversation when alone.

They both made their way to the Bentley.  He strapped himself in and leaned back with a sigh, rubbing his face and seeing the tableau before his mind’s eye, in all its glory of flowers and death.  God, there really was something wrong with him.  Hannibal sensed his desire for silence and they quietly made their way back home.

Once in the kitchen, Will’s hand twitched towards the cupboard where the whisky was held, but he resisted the temptation.  He needed a clear head to have this discussion, to gauge his mate’s mood, and weather his possible disappointment and rightful jealousy.  If Hannibal realised how this gift had affected Will, how would he feel about the one he meant to give him?  The one he was obviously working so hard on, had put such thought into?  Unbidden, Hannibal’s words resurfaced to compound his guilty feelings, and he recollected with vivid clarity the exchange, the stress of the words, the look in his mate’s eyes.   

_Don’t worry, Will, it won’t be anything like that.  But I hope you will find it beautiful._

And suddenly, the shiver was back at the nape of his neck.  The breath caught in his throat.  The blood pounded so fast and loud in his ears he could barely hear Hannibal just behind him.  He turned without volition, without conscious thought, drawn despite his will.

And for the first time, he truly _saw_ him.

Hannibal stood there, a few paces from him, stripped of all artifice, naked in magnificent power and frightful beauty.  

“Breathe, my love.”

Will was dizzy, unaware he had barely taken air into his lungs, and now he gulped it in and tried to steady his shaking body.  He leaned back against the counter, thoughts scattering in fleeing panic, shock and pain and disbelief vying for attention, and leaving his body hostage to all of them.

Training kicked in and he struggled to free the firearm he always carried at crime scenes.  Hannibal made no move to stop him, though he clearly had plenty of time and opportunity to do so.

He turned and pointed it unsteadily at the doctor.  Even this action, threatening his mate, was twisting him inside with instinctual revulsion.  He recalled the times Hannibal had offered support in difficult situations, and thought bitterly how he could really do with that right now.

The doctor continued to look at Will steadily and intensely, but made no move to defend or attack.

Will’s voice shook.  “You wanted me to know.  _Why_?  What did you think would happen?”

“I always intended for you to know.  Truthfully, I could hardly have hid this from you in the long term.  And I did not wish to do so.  You and I are more alike than you care to accept.”

A harsh, broken sound issued from Will.  “Is that your _professional_ evaluation, Dr Lecter?  What the hell would make you think I was like you?”

There was now a knowing look in Hannibal’s eyes.  Will had taken the bait, as he knew he would.

“You found my gift beautiful, did you not?”

Will’s look of abject dejection prompted Hannibal to add.  “I am not trying to make you feel guilty, my love, but to let the scales fall from your eyes, to see yourself as you truly are, to finally embrace your potential and for us to be truly together.”

The gun was still trained on his mate, but any righteous impulse had fled, and left only a heavy weariness.  “You think I could kill with you?  I won’t do that, Hannibal.  I won’t kill innocent people!”

“What if they were not so innocent, Will?  There are those who commit terrible crimes and escape justice.  Would you consider those targets as undeserving of their fate?  When they have done far worse to others and gotten away with it?”

“I’m not exactly in the right frame of mind to discuss the ethical merits of murder.”

“Alright, then tell me, Will.  Are you prepared to shoot me, or turn me in?  Because those are your only other options at this point.”

Will stood for an eternity of seconds, gun still lifted and held in place with muscle memory and no actual will.  He lowered it.  Everything was a maelstrom in his mind, all the scattered pieces having to readjust to this new reality, but one thing he was certain was that he had no intention of losing Hannibal.  Sad though it was, he wanted him and needed him with a fierceness that had not abated with this new knowledge.  There was anger and pain and betrayal tainting his feelings, but those feelings were still there and they were still strong.  And with all this battering his mind, the possibility of loss, of Hannibal being permanently removed from his life, was the most painful and wrenching, making his stomach clench with dread.

Before he even knew he had spoken, the anguished words were out.  “I can’t lose you.”

Now Hannibal slowly moved towards him, slipping the gun from his lax fingers into his own hand and setting it on the table.  He could see the play of Will’s emotions across his features – anger, resentment, despair and loss – and Hannibal marvelled anew at the beauty of his suffering.  He cupped his sad face and kissed him tenderly on the lips, then lightly lent his forehead against his.  

“I am willing to compromise.  I am willing to accept change.  But I cannot give up killing altogether.  It is a part of who I am.”

Will’s body lost the fight and gave in to his need for comfort and touch, and he moulded his body to Hannibal’s, holding fiercely to his alpha.  “I cannot kill with you.  I won’t.”

Hannibal smoothed Will’s hair in broad gentle strokes.  “You don’t have to, beloved.”

He felt some of the tension ebb away from his mate’s body, leaving exhaustion behind.  It didn’t take much to gently coax Will upstairs and they lay in bed together tightly embraced.  

Hannibal was far from giving up his ideal life with Will, where they would hunt together.  But his mate needed time to adjust, to accept this reality and the dark paths of his own nature.  The first step had been the hardest, but now Hannibal knew for certain that Will would not give him up.  Everything else he could work with, and time was on his side.  

And anyway, he would hardly expect Will to join him while carrying their child.  While Will wrestled with his conscience and his doubts, the solid reality of the coming baby would consolidate their union, and bring them closer together.  Hannibal knew from experience how fierce Will could become when defending his loved ones, and he knew that with a family to protect the doctor would have to do very little actual manoeuvring to steer his mate in the desired direction.   

 

************************

 

Will woke after what felt like a heavy dose of sleep, but not a particularly restful one.  He was groggily making his way towards full wakefulness when the memory of the previous day’s events hit him, and he woke fully with a gasp.  Strong arms were holding him, and he was flooded with guilt at the comfort he was feeling.  So like picking at a suppurating sore, he had to ask.

“Who was he?”

“An alpha who regularly abused his omega.  He was careful about it, never damaging him enough to necessitate hospital care, but certainly sufficient to keep him permanently cowed and afraid.”

Will scowled but without much heat.  “You did that on purpose.  You knew I’d be ambivalent about it.”

He could feel the shape of Hannibal’s smile against the curls on his forehead.  “You are not ambivalent, my love.”

Will humphed.  He searched his feelings knowing the answer already, and looked for the guilt and doubts that were nowhere to be found.  No, he could not care about the death of an abuser, and could only rejoice in the freedom of his omega.  He could understand the allure in Hannibal’s offer that those who had escaped conventional justice might be brought to book.  The idea did not seem so repellent after all.  He remembered how he had felt when he shot Budge.  He knew there were many evils perpetrated that escaped punishment.  He began to seriously consider the notion that they could redress those wrongs.

He had no illusions that Hannibal was acting for the sake of justice or morality.  This was clearly his attempt to manipulate him into acquiescence.  The problem was that he was finding it hard to come up with any arguments against it.  If Hannibal had to kill, and he had made it clear that he would, should not the deaths of others bring relief to their victims?  He knew he was teetering at the top of a slippery moral slide, yet together with his desire to keep his mate he was finding it difficult to fight for the moral high ground.

And more unsettling still was that part of him he was becoming more aware of, but still couldn’t fully acknowledge.  The one that was whispering to him that such care and thought had gone into this offering that Hannibal’s gift had become even more beautiful in his eyes.  He was appalled at his own reflection, and yet could not deny that it was indeed his own.  

He was still lost in his thoughts when he felt Hannibal stir behind him.  “What would you like for breakfast?”

“I’m not sure I can manage much.  I think just coffee.”

Hannibal’s arm was draped over Will’s stomach, and now his thumb stroked lightly over the sparse hairs below his belly button.  “Could you manage some toast?”

Will sighed, well aware of the hint.  “I guess I could.”  The doctor placed a light kiss on his neck and slipped out of bed, padding softly downstairs.

Will was left puzzling over his own mental processes.  He felt he should be freaking out, and some (disturbingly) small part was certainly doing that.  But that part led to no future he wished to embrace.  It had been years since he had given up any hope of companionship.  He had lived by taking each day as it came and hadn’t seen the point in looking much further than that.  There had been some bleak solace in knowing that no expectations meant no disappointments.  

But now he had so much to lose, and he couldn’t give it up.  So he found most of his attention drifting towards their conversation yesterday, this compromise Hannibal had offered, and working out the logistics of it to make it work for them.  He felt vaguely disgusted at himself at how pragmatic he was acting, but he knew he needed to confront this, for them to discuss and agree guidelines they could both live with.  If indeed Hannibal could be confined by anything as prosaic as guidelines.  

He joined his mate downstairs and his quiet determined air alerted Hannibal instantly that a serious talk was in the offing.  When breakfast was served, they both sat and ate in silence.  Hannibal waited for Will to make the first move.  He had been desultorily nibbling at his toast before abandoning his efforts.

“What you said yesterday ... about not killing the innocent.  I mean, I know you offered it as a compromise to soothe my conscience, but if you are going to target potentially dangerous people, I need to know you’ll come back to me alive.”

Hannibal smiled, pleased with the turn of the conversation.  Will still managed to surprise him.  “I didn’t envisage your first concern to be worry for my safety.”  

“Well, there’s not much point in trying to keep you safe from prison if you get killed by a potential mark.”  Will was frustrated by what he considered Hannibal’s slightly cavalier attitude.  “To put it bluntly you have been used to sheep, and now you are proposing to switch to hunting wolves.  I am worried you may have become too used to easy prey.”

Hannibal was still looking fondly at him, but there was some steel in his voice when he replied. “I assure you, my love, that I did not make that offer without considering the consequences.  And I have not always just hunted sheep.”  

Will felt curious and was about to ask when something in Hannibal’s look warned him not to.  The mask was back in place, but this time he fancied it was hiding some old wound.

“Alright.  I won’t hunt with you, but I need to know your plans.  I can’t do this if you shut me out.”

“Agreed.”  He took one of Will’s hands in his, and stroked his thumb over his clenched knuckles.  There was something about his calm demeanour that sparked irritation in Will.  He could tell that as far as Hannibal was concerned, everything was neatly wrapped up in an acceptable package.  

He wondered how often Hannibal was actually surprised by events.  He certainly liked to remain in control, and suspected his mate of having planned for all sorts of contingencies, manipulating situations and people to fit into his plans.  So this very outcome may well have been envisaged, planned for.  He began to wonder how far back that planning had gone.  

He ripped his hand away from Hannibal’s touch and skewered him with a resentful glare.  “You planned this from the start, didn’t you?  Your courtship, everything ... ”

He was startled by a warm hand cupping his cheek, encouraging eye contact.  Hannibal stroked him gently.  “Don’t.  I could have manipulated you without mating you.  That part was not necessary to my plans.  I was in no danger of being discovered.  Indeed my danger increased when I decided I wanted you.  And then, yes, I did everything I could to ensure that outcome.”

And Will could not help an embarrassingly soft sound escaping him, and leaning into Hannibal’s hand, relishing his warmth and comfort.  Surely that part at least was true.  He could have remained friends with the doctor, and he probably would never have known.  And if he ever had, Hannibal could have chosen to kill him.  Instead, he had taken a risk.  And Will could not honestly regret whatever chain of events had led him to Hannibal.  He closed his eyes and sighed into the caress, feeling warm lips brushing his forehead, soft breath on his curls.

There would be other questions, but for now one last suspicion needed to be laid to rest.

“The baby...  Was that really an accident?”  He made eye contact, needed to see Hannibal’s gaze when he replied.

Quiet contentment and assurance exuded from his mate.  “A beautiful one, yes.  One I wouldn’t change for anything.”

He let Hannibal draw him into his arms, taking comfort where he could.


	7. Chapter 7

Hannibal had watched his mate forsake his breakfast with quiet patience.  He could understand how Will would be unable to eat following his revelations.  However he hoped to coax him at lunch, and to that end he suggested Will spend time with his pack, the better to soothe his troubled mind and attempt to restore some measure of normality with the routine.  When the meal was served, it was uncharacteristically plain, light but nutritious.  He still found himself encouraging Will through almost every bite, the man clearly having little appetite and still lost in his thoughts.  

“My love, it is not healthy in your condition to skip meals.  Please try to eat a little more.”

_You must feed, my love.  You are eating for two now_.

The fork went suddenly lax in Will’s hand.

“What did you do with the organs?”

Hannibal tried to show none of his surprise by the unanticipated turn of the conversation, and confident he did not appear ruffled by the question, prepared again to offer a dose of mendacity hidden within a little veracity in order to be convincing, until he lifted his eyes and saw Will’s expression.  There was clear horror and anger in there.  Ah.  No point in denying it, then.  His clever mate had worked it out.

He sighed and set his own cutlery down.  The noise seemed very loud in the heavy silence.

“Will...”

“Oh, god!”

The chair screeched as it scraped across the floor, and his mate stumbled as he barely made it to the downstairs bathroom before retching violently into the toilet.  Hannibal followed, lamenting another meal Will had failed to consume.

He found him swilling his mouth out with fresh water, then leaning shakily on the sink, head bowed over his crossed arms.  He lifted his head at his approach, and Hannibal had barely taken a step into the room, when Will surged from his position and punched him squarely in the face.  He was shocked to realise he had completely failed to see that coming.  He managed to remain on his feet, and resisted the savage impulse to subdue his omega.  Instead, he stood thrumming with barely concealed excitement, waiting for whatever else his mate might be willing to impart.

And he certainly looked like he was very willing.  Will was barely holding himself in check, and such simmering violence was sending the most delicious shivers down Hannibal’s spine.  Admiration of Will’s spirit, and the desire to assert his dominance vied for control, but either way, and not for the first time, he congratulated himself on his choice of partner.

Before the doctor could open his mouth his omega was growling – “You ...!  You will not feed me your kills again.”

Hannibal was wise enough to see there was no arguing with him, not now at least, though he still retained the hope that in future this would change.  Will was not yet ready, but Hannibal was confident he would be.

Then Will uttered in shocked exclamation – “Oh, god, you fed them to my dogs!”

Denial was impossible, though Hannibal was intrigued to see his mate blanch, and looking almost as upset at this further revelation.  “They did eat leftovers, yes.”

“Oh...oh!  You... you fed...”

Any comment on his part was likely to exacerbate the situation, so he wisely kept quiet while his Will had an angry freakout next to him.  Then his mate turned to him scowling.

“Do you have any further surprise up your sleeve, doctor?  Might as well let them all out now.”

Hannibal dabbed delicately with a handkerchief at his bleeding lip.  “No, Will, that is all.”

“Well, thank fuck for that.”  He stormed out of the bathroom, shouldering Hannibal out of the way, grabbed his jacket from the stand and walked out.  Hannibal listened to the angry sounds of his mate’s exit, then sighed.  Well, that could have gone better.  It could also have been a lot worse.  

 

***************************

 

Will prowled the park with angry energy.  Anger had practically obliterated all other sensations, and he internally cursed Hannibal a thousand times before he even began to slow his pace.  As his initial impetus waned, he began to feel wearied and plonked himself gracelessly on a secluded bench.

It was all too much to process, the revelations too quickly succeeding one another for his mind to attempt to cope.  He needed time, maybe even some distance away to try and regain some form of equilibrium.  Hannibal had texted him a few times but he had refused to reply or even read his words, and had just decided it would be best to spend a few days at Wolf Trap when his phone rang.  Assuming Hannibal was now phoning him, Will answered none too gently and without checking caller ID.

“What?”

A slight pause.  “Will?..”

Will face palmed.  “Hello, Jack.”

“Is this a bad time?”

“No, it’s ... fine.  What is it?”

“A dead woman found inside the body of a horse.”

“Are you at the office?  I’ll meet you there.”

Will ended the call and hurried to grab a taxi.  He would text Hannibal later to let him know he was attending a crime scene.  At present he was too angry to even think of doing so, but he knew he would not let his mate worry unnecessarily for too long.  Not that he didn’t deserve it.  

He had no problem working alone, so the investigation would not suffer, but he hoped with an angry spike of spite that Hannibal would.  Excluding him would reinforce the message that Will was truly pissed off with him.  

 

Jack looked about to comment at the absence of his partner, but one look at Will’s face assured him he did not want to know that badly.  Will confirmed it with the clipped “He won’t be joining us.”

Jack wisely refrained from comment.  He was a married man, he knew that look on Will’s face, having viewed it on his wife on a few particularly memorable occasions.  He filled the profiler in with the information he had as they drove to the site.  

Once there Will experienced a giddy moment of relief when he perceived that this was not one of the Ripper’s scenarios, and immersed himself in the proceedings.  It didn’t take long for Will to conclude that Peter Bernardone had no hand in the woman’s death, and thankfully it took even less time to convince Jack, who seemed to view Peter with a mix of confusion and pity.  But both were aware that the damaged man knew something about her death but seemed unwilling or unable to express it.  

Jack drove them back to Baltimore, and Will stayed overnight at a motel near the office.  He had contacted Hannibal via text only once.  He resisted the urge to call him and hear his voice, knowing that his alpha would attempt to bring him round, and he did not feel himself strong enough to resist the temptation.  Angry as he still was, he was horrified to realise that he missed his mate.  He finally managed a few hours’ sleep after much tossing and turning, and cursing Hannibal for his soothing scent and stupidly strong arms whose embrace always sent him blissfully to sleep.  

 

The next day a breakthrough at the lab led them to the mass burial of fifteen other women.  As Will viewed the scene the wind direction suddenly changed and the stench of decay hit him.  He paled and quickly moved away, slightly gagging.  He had smelt far worse in his time, but recent revelations seemed to be playing havoc with his guts.

“...Will?  You okay?”  Jack sounded concerned and confused.  As well he might, given Will’s unusual reaction.

“Yeah, just... give me a minute.”  Will took a few long pulls of air into his lungs a safe distance from the scene.  Jack hovered uncertainly at his shoulder.  The profiler cast him a tentative look, wondering whether Jack would enquire further or blissfully mind his own business.

“Before we left Hannibal came to my office.”

Well, that would be a no, then.  

They’d obviously had a conversation about him, and what with Jack’s concern he hoped Hannibal had not expressed any doubts as to his ability to handle the situation.  He acknowledged that gagging at the scene was not likely to set the agent’s mind at rest.  But Jack surprised him with an amused look.  

“That was some lip you gave him.”

“He told you?”  Will was stunned.

“No, but you just did.”  Will sighed.  Sometimes he forgot how devious his boss could be.  “He mentioned he would not be attending, so he asked me to keep an eye on you.  Said you had not been feeling well.”  

And Will did not mistake the speculative look Jack was casting him.  He would tell him eventually, he would have to.  But not now.  There was a slim possibility that Jack would pull him from the investigation, and right now he needed this.  

He straightened his gloves and gave a wan smile, avoiding eye contact.  “I’ll be fine.  Just a stomach upset.”

Jack grunted in acceptance.  He had done his bit, and if Will wanted to carry on he was certainly pleased to keep the profiler on the case.  

 

The investigation soon led them to Peter’s social worker, Clark Ingram.  Their instincts had never been so much in agreement, but although the interview at Quantico confirmed their suspicions, there was still the crucial lack of evidence linking him to the crimes.

Beyond frustrated, Will returned to the site and saw the destruction of Peter’s sanctuary.  Now worried about his safety he went in search of the man.  After he found him crouched by a horse’s newly stitched body, he busied himself thinking about the different lies he could concoct to protect Peter from prison.  

Justice and law had never seemed so far apart as in this particular instance, and Will’s instincts of protectiveness were surging to the fore.  He was determined that Peter should not suffer for this action.  He gently persuaded him to leave the stables, and crouched there reviewing several plans in his mind when movement from inside the horse alerted him that Mr Ingram was not quite as dead as he had supposed.  

He watched with detached fascination as the killer clawed his way out of the carcass and spluttered and heaved in an attempt to gasp in clear air.  His gun was in his hand and pointing before he was even consciously aware of it.

If Clark Ingram had realised how sickening Will found his further attempts to exonerate himself and blame Peter, he would wisely have shut up.  He may have been a psychopath, but clearly not a very smart one.  His rantings were doing nothing but make Will tighten his grip on his weapon further, and he resisted the pull of the trigger with a conscious effort.

He was aware of his presence before he saw him.  Hannibal walked with quiet purpose and control right up to Will, slowly raised his hand to touch his wrist and gently lowered it, all the time his eyes never leaving his mate’s.

Will acquiesced, though clearly surprised.  “Why?”

“My love, if you shot him now there would be an investigation.  And how could you justify shooting an unarmed man whose condition would indicate he was posing no direct threat?  Too much risk.  Your friend Peter is safe.  There is no need for this.  I’m sure evidence will be found to link this man” – and he cast a disdainful look at the miserable blubbering lump – “to those women’s deaths.”  

And Will looked at his mate, and had no doubt that evidence would indeed be found.  Incontrovertible, damning evidence.  And there was a surge of vengeful satisfaction at that.  He understood Hannibal’s caution and reluctantly approved of it.  Even if an investigation were to exonerate him, any such gaze cast their way would be unwanted and potentially dangerous attention.  He could not take such a risk.

 

Some time later they both gave their statements, and were finally allowed to go home.  Will’s anger at Hannibal had somewhat abated, and indeed been redirected towards a far more deserving target.  Now he just felt hollowed out and tired, and found himself wanting nothing more than to feel Hannibal’s warm embrace and fall asleep surrounded by his scent.  His mate seemed to know how he felt, and without coaxing or encouragement merely made himself available to anything Will needed.  And Will took it.    

 

*****************

 

**Epilogue**

 

The following days were spent in a strange state of limbo.  Will was very quiet and introspective.  Hannibal had no doubts that he was searching inside himself in an attempt to understand his own recent behaviour, to come to terms with a set of morals that was clearly in the process of reconfiguration.  

Hannibal was also aware of long searching looks cast towards him.  Whenever he would meet these looks his mate would make no attempt to dissemble or turn away.  The scrutiny was ... evaluating, weighing but not judging him.  Hannibal felt he was being assessed against Will’s new particular set of codes and, whether consciously or not, against others, such as that most unpleasant creature in the stables.  He was confident that his suggested compromise would be far more appealing now with such an example to hand.  Really, he almost felt he should thank Mr Ingram.  

Meanwhile he gave his mate as much time and space as he could.  Any attempt to steer Will at this delicate stage would tip the balance against him.  This was the moment to stand back and let Will come to him, for the man to fully accept all that their future together entailed, and to make him feel that the power of decision rested in himself.  

Not that it did, of course.  If his more subtle powers of persuasion failed, there were other methods available.  He was however loath to resort to such measures, tantamount to personal failure in his eyes.  He wanted a willing partner, not a surly captive.  And Will was evolving.  He was not sure what the end result would be, but he wanted nothing more than to witness this glorious process.  

 

*************

 

He returned one evening from his office to find Will on the doorstep, a travel bag at his feet.  He had lingered long enough to inform him that he was staying a few nights at Wolf Trap, taking the dogs with him.  Then it was just a hurried goodbye and Will was gone.

Intellectually the doctor understood his need to be alone, but still he was ... uncomfortable with his absence.  He soon found himself missing Will’s presence and by extension, even the dogs’.  He would sit and attempt to enjoy his meals in the dining room, or his music in the living room, and stare at Will’s empty seat across from him, feeling an emptiness that no matter how transient, was nonetheless quite acute at the time.  

He had patience, however, and was confident his Will just needed this time to settle his mind into this new path.  Annoyingly, he found himself repeating this like a reassuring mantra.  There was the mortifying acknowledgement that no matter how much he had shaped and changed Will, he had unwittingly been subject to some alteration himself.  He sighed wearily and attempted to be philosophical about it, without much success.

 

*************

 

Hannibal switched the ignition off and sat back, a sudden release of tension at seeing Will’s car back in the drive.  He could not help the warm anticipation flooding him as he made his way into the house.  He could hear sounds from the kitchen and hurried towards them.

Will was just putting the last finishing touches to his dish prior to placing it in the oven, and he looked up at his entry.  The room smelled of fresh trout, lemon juice and olive oil.  And Will, and home.  His beautiful mate straightened up, watching him with a fond expression.  

“Missed you.”

Hannibal was beside him in a few heartbeats, wrapping him in his arms and burying his face in Will’s neck, breathing him in.  He gloried in the feel of his mate’s warm body tightly wrapped in his, the arms gripping him almost painfully.  Then his omega uncurled himself enough to lean back and meet his eyes.  The gaze showed a steely determination, an unspoken promise that, whatever Will’s doubts, he had reached a resolution and would stick to it.  It spoke of steady assurance and acceptance.  

And Hannibal smiled, pleased beyond words.  His mate was back where he belonged, and he was one step closer to fulfilling his dreams.  He yearned to see again that darkness in Will’s eyes, waking from long imprisonment, rousing and unfurling its fledgling wings in anticipation.  Keen and hungry.  Hannibal longed for the moment when he would witness such beauty on its maiden flight.

 

Will basked in his alpha’s pleasure, at the same time perfectly aware that his compromise was to the doctor simply a step to lulling Will into acquiescence, before manoeuvring for more control.  And he had needed his time away to consider his own tactics in dealing with that.  He realised that Hannibal would try to steer him towards darker paths than agreed.  And he worried about wandering too far and not finding his way back, losing himself and his sense of who he was.  

He was sure that whatever manipulations Hannibal had admitted to, there were probably many more he omitted to mention, and many more he intended to pursue.  

But two could play that game.  His alpha was not immune to the omega’s influence, and Will had every intention to use this in his dealings with him, determined to resist the pull of his dominant partner and indeed his own darker self.

 

But mind games could wait.  Right now, they both needed _this_.  

“You smell wonderful”.  Hannibal was alternatively scenting and nipping at his neck, and Will’s thought processes scattered, swamped by his physical responses.  And judging by his mate’s own bodily reactions they would be forgoing dinner for a while.  Quite a long while, he hoped fuzzily.  

Senses alight at the touch of heated skin, revelling in each other’s scent, they made their hurried unsteady way upstairs, shedding clothes in haste along the way.

 

******************

 

Notes: 

Thanks for the kudos and comments.  It's been really good fun and I hope you enjoyed it half as much as I did writing it.


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